


WINDBREAKER

by leechailatten



Series: Incendium [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-18 23:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 76,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22635343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leechailatten/pseuds/leechailatten
Summary: Royalty! AUAn empty spot in the throne, for brief it is, is always a weak point to start an offensive, and the Prince Kim Jungwoo always had known how to use his advantages to attack. As beautiful as lethal, he is the perfect combination to hit any target that gets into his pile of desired things. Whatever that happens to be.This is a "sequel" of the taeten story told in Incendium (first part of this serie)
Relationships: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Nakamoto Yuta, Kim Jungwoo/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Lee Taeyong/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten, a mess - Relationship, royal affairs in luxurious bedrooms (??), still a lot of taeten
Series: Incendium [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1584109
Comments: 13
Kudos: 30





	1. Wind Raises

He was sitting, up on the prow, his eyes closed, breathing the salty breeze that blew over the sea with a knowledge of calm that he barely had had the time to scrutinize before. He was putting it to test now, as the ship moved forwards and the wind was cold on his tan skin from the east, wrapped in two layers of coats that, anyhow, didn't weigh as much as his royal single-coat gown and his crown used to do. 

Funny how he wasn't scared to fall on the water again.

Nothing could break his high spirit on that instant of his life. He felt so happy, finally, so ecstatic and fresh. The new blood of liberty had filled his entire soul and, if he had to die, he would want it to be in Taeyong's embrace and out of how hot his heart and his senses became when they touched or merely were together. 

He even exhaled to he thought, the breath scaping out of his red lips of eminence. 

Run away. 

That's exactly what he did.

When he caught Taeyong's waist, as the mercer jumped off the wall of Na Jaemin's house, the adrenaline filled his heart and propelled through his body like a massive explosion. It felt so real, suddenly. Taeyong had taken his hand and laced their fingers together to then run across the flower gardens like souls out of hell, erasing any doubts about his destiny in life. 

His destiny was to do what he was doing. 

He would own his life to Lee Jeno for pointing the secret exit at the back of the gardens for them, using it to make it out with the same passion the officer had put into sneaking into the house through it to kiss Jaemin in between travels back to when they were warned to not do it at all. 

The breeze of the sea was growing with every step through those streets covered in green grass and plants, as they moved over those pavement roads made of round stones, at an intempestive hour where everyone has put themselves to sleep, ignorant of the matters going down Ignis' throne legacy's history. 

The only man to be awake at that crazy time was the fiery Captain of the _Nashira Star,_ Qian Kun. 

The recommendation letter was not enough to make his sympathy bloom towards the couple of idiots- because there wasn't any other way to define them- he had in front of his ship, begging him to let them board in such a pitiful way. 

The secrecy floating on the air of Ventum Angis was a strange characteristic of the country that most of the citizens shared, Kun included. It was not that they were hiding something but they wanted to preserve the essence of the city, especially with the winter holidays approaching and the appearance of prince Jungwoo through the gates of the Silver Palace around the corner. 

All of that could be threatened with unevaluated newcomers, no matter the pleasing words a mere official, drenched in a joyful feeling of renewed love, could have written on a paper to favour them. 

Nonetheless, Ten couldn't give up on the finish line of that tiring race from his country to freedom, not when his fingers were still intertwined with Taeyong's and his clothes smelt like him to remind him what was he fighting for that night, besides the crown situation. 

The crown. That matter would become a triviality for him if the wind pushed him in the right direction and fast enough.

He asked so humbly to board, that Taeyong looked at him really questioning if he ever had been a prince or not, but the mercer soon joined the act, telling the captain of pinkish hair and severe expression that it would be his first time in years returning home if he let them board. 

Ventum Angis was his home. 

Either sincerity or anxiety must have reflected on his features with the warm light of the sun starting to rise in the horizon, and Captain Kun finally sighed and reluctantly took the money and moved aside on the ramp to let them run towards the deck with urge before more light could shine and illuminate the scene. 

Half a week had passed on board and the initial fear of being caught by someone that knew that they shouldn't be there dissipated, getting lost as the vessel ran across the waves of the sea towards their destination, Ventus Angis' port. 

It wasn't far, they'll be home on the third night on board, maximum on the fourth morning. Which could explain in a more easygoing way where did the feeling of love had found a base to lay on, or why was Ten now the one being held by his waist while Taeyong tapped an incoherent pattern on them with his fingers, keeping him seated on his lap.

Ten could feel his calm heart against his body, soothing and relaxing like the best remedy.

— I haven't said this to you yet, Taeyong— murmured Ten with an endearing tone, out of a sudden, that made the eldest open his eyes lazily. He was almost asleep on his shoulder, since the sun was only a line on the horizon now and they had been there for a couple of hours, in silence, in order to not miss the break of dawn but they were missing it anyways because of their attention easily veering to each other. He had thought Ten was asleep too but he was too nervous seeing the small drawing of the Silver palace's spire, in the distance, becoming a more clear image— Thank you for saving me and changing my fate to a better one. Not the one I had made up in mind since forever… a better one because you are on it.

Taeyong just smiled on his shoulder, planting a kiss over it, and squeezed him tighter against his body. He was so freaking sweet when he was given the chance.

He thought of all the things he could show to Ten when their feet were on land.

He could show him the mountains, the deep green forest and the marble white scales dragon statue of the outer plaza; he could let him run freely wherever he wanted and see how he never happened to be tired of exploring the things he had around, laying for him to mess around them; he could show him around his room and its sheets, having a glaze over his skin and a rushed heartbeat.

— You don't have to say it, because you are also the best fate. I love you, my prince.

— I'm not-

—I know—he interrupted him slowly, as his lips brushed on his skin, going up until they stopped to kiss the corner of his lips. Ten felt like shivering from the sudden thrill of the kiss and the soft subtlety in which he gave it to him, like just a blow on his face— You are not a monarch anymore, but you are still my prince.

Ten burned on happiness and melted on love with Taeyong's words. He thought about them again and again like tasting the best of flavors, even though the sentence shouldn't be that accurate. 

The beginning of November was cold in Ventum Angis, the flowers had started to tremble in the morning and the roses got covered with a thin layer of ice, giving them a paler look. 

The Prince Jungwoo was swinging on his garden's swing while his coat cape brushed the ground underneath like a blanket made of cold. The fresh wind of his land caressed him like if he was a child of the element and his blonde hair brushed back gently without losing the order of his locks. 

It's always said that a fish kept on a small tank only grows the length the crystal walls allow him to do, but then, if you put the same fish on a larger space it will keep getting bigger. 

Looking at the view that he could see when the swing raised on the air, as his loyal Renjun pushed him high with the come and go of the ropes, he got the feeling of his lake shrinking more and more. 

He was so subtle, his skin so pale and smooth and his beauty so breathtaking when the subjects looked at him with admiration. 

It would be such a pity, in his opinion, to risk a piece of porcelain like that, getting marks on his neck when he started getting suffocated by the size of his possessions in which now the sun was setting and disappearing on the horizon like swallowed by the sea. 

If you have something beautiful, don't you want to show it to the whole world? To the whole region? 

Jungwoo had nothing prettier in his hands than his ego itself.


	2. Ice of the desert

Lucas was having a headache already and the music and murmurs of guests were rising the volume yet to reach the highest peak of decibels as they danced around under the look of high ranges. 

The Grand Salon was all about yellow and orange, as the flowers hung from the pointed marble arches above their heads in allusion to prince Xiaojun. It was a bit dramatic that his favorite flower was the imperialis crown, maybe there were some ideas that had been engraved on his brain since long ago like a settled goal to reach in his adulthood, but even with that, now that he was holding it by the stem it felt like he was unprepared.

Festivities were on a rush, the official dates for the seven days of official acts were fixed to start from the next Saturday, being only two week since Xuxi arrived from Per Saxa with an empty place by his side and a ring on his hand, but it was all arranged quickly due to the bloom of voices talking around Ignis' streets, feeling like decaying spirits for the announcement of the National Jewel's passing. 

Prince Ten, he was called the National Jewel for a reason, he was loved by all, and the king wasn't willing to let villagers lose the strength to support his kingdom for a sudden death, so he decided to fight in order to overcome the sadness of the city with a happy celebration like the upcoming coronation of the skillful prince Xiaojun. There was no space for hesitations, if Ten was gone there was nothing else to stop Xiaojun from ascending to the throne and to inherit the king's title when his father passed. It was the cycle of their life. 

However, Lucas was standing at the side of the hall, his resemblance apparently calm and his head full of noise, guarding his now two princes next to the places reserved to them only. 

The picture looked as if nothing had changed, but he still wondered where was his ruby now, or how could someone so bright disappear with such effectivity without making the world collapse, because the nobles were still twirling around with the music, the flowers still had scent and Ignis' sun was still able to shine for the villagers. Maybe he had had the reason all the time and his mere existence was only for the beauty, a flash of wishes to fulfill a banal desire and nothing else, since no one had stopped to give him tears. He must have hated everything in the Grand Palace more than Lucas dared to realize when he still was around.

He only had needed a last impulse and finding someone to give it to him, that's what it took. 

Usually, Xiaojun was way more steady than his older brother, but at that moment, he was resembling him in some kind of way as he walked back and forth and Lucas heard him moving all around. He was nervous, not unsure of how to act towards the court but finding the feeling of the new weight falling on his shoulders without a warning, destined to hold the government of the fire country without burning his fingerprints. Meanwhile, the youngest prince, Hendery, was just half sitting and half lying on his chaise, his head resting on his hand with a disinterested expression product of his melancholy and his soul just a mess between conformity and indignation. He was draped on his white veil and pearly decorations as if the thing was not with him, his nails tickling on the velvet of the couch and his look following his brother.

The page found with surprise how they could be so obnoxious, being two of them, just there forgetting that he could perfectly overhear the conversation that was supposed to be private, but not so much, since the "door" wasn't such but nothing more than a thin fabric hanging from bars. 

— I cannot believe that he died just like that— was Hendery telling to his now only brother— I refuse to believe it.

— You heard what Xuxi said and you also saw the report about the shipwreck in foreign waters— he responded in a sigh with his voice kind of cold. 

The youngest of them couldn't stop spinning the topic all around in his mind, and had been bringing it out all the week, especially in sight of his father's reaction. Or, better say, nonexistent reaction. He was deeply upset for the lack of consideration towards his own family and son, only able to cry him on behalf of all of them while the king moved papers here and there, only focused on the business of the palace and the collocation of the dozens of thousands of flowers that were hanging on the Grand Salon.

— And you are to believe that tomfoolery? 

— What makes you so convinced that it is, indeed, a foolery? 

— I don't know— said the prince disillusioned— But it feels odd, as if I would have noticed his absence. And it doesn't feel like he is no more, it feels like this is not how he had to end.

— Hendery…— sighed his brother again, not knowing how to turn the conversation around. Lucas heard the revolving sound of the youngest getting up with his official gown, stepping in front of him to look at him face to face, as well as the click of Xiaojun's tongue when he did so— Of course this doesn't feel right but no one knows where their end is… it comes without a warning.

— So you do think he has passed.

— Yes, Hendery— he said with a tint of difficulty staining his voice— Prince Chenle from Caleo sent the papers, signed by Captain Doyoung, that the Storm's Lily sunk five miles away from their shores and… 

— Knock knock, Dejun, is your heart there or is your ribcage empty?— shot Hendery. 

The older one jumped like a resort with the accusation and looked back at him intensely.

— He used to carry half of our hearts with him, you know mine as well. I feel sad that he is not here but you have to be mature and accept the loss.

— This is not being mature, this is being unhopeful. Lucas is alive, so why not him? He is fierce he could have... 

— To the point of battling the sea?— interrupted Xiaojun raising his voice to his younger brother trying to call upon respect but he sometimes could forget that he was not another courtesan but a member of his lineage, sharing at least part of his blood— The sea, Hendery. Liters and liters of water, for kilometers all around, angry on a storm with waves that made an entire vessel plunge down like a stone.

Lucas stood quiet, hearing just the silence of the brothers back on their place. He too felt the hit of his words, almost like if he was unaware of the truth of the prince's denouement. Hendery was breathing as if hell was trying to take him down and he was fighting it back. 

— You know what, Dejun? I hope he wasn't right when he got sad because father sent you to Ventum Angis instead of him— said the youngest one, paused— I really hope you don't hate him as bad as it looks like sometimes.

He let out an outraged puff. He was not at fault for the choices the king made, was he? Ventum Angis was a powerful nation, and Jungwoo had a volatile character; his father ignored that he was younger in favour of politics and sometimes he understood why, but over the table things were not so easy to handle. 

Theory and practice were two separate things. 

—Haven't you heard that sometimes silence is golden?— he let slip out his lips. He was quite elegant with everything he had to manage but even with a salon throwing a party in his honor he was still an impulsive young man in his twenties— This is one of the moments. You have lost a brother, but you still have the other, try to keep the good relationship and remember Ten was not only a friend for you.

Lucas didn't have time to lurk in to know about the reaction the young heir gave away in front of those harsh words trying to impose behaviour. The next thing he knew was the rushed and inflamed way in which prince Xiaojun palmed the curtain, opened it and stormed outside, leaving Hendery sinking his butt again on the chair, sad in a party that wasn't meant to be in the first place and he knew it. 

The page limited to follow him on his way up to his individual chamber. He was his now, and so he had to complete his tasks. 

As he walked behind him on the curled stairs of soft wooden railings, he noticed the painful similarities he flashed with a moment now thrown in the past.

The black robe of the crown prince had silvery embroidered birds and it was so thin and translucent that it let the red of his clothes be seen underneath, his crown twinkled in between his soft curls and sounded dimly all across the carpeted hallways when the other pendants clashed against it. The smell of an official party was still floating in the air, thick like if it was the vapor coming up from hot perfumed water, and the only thing that Xiaojun lacked to reenact Lucas' suppressed memory in his elegant way to this bed where the roses lining up on the back of his hair. 

It was okay, it would be so strange for Lucas to see him owning that look with so much accuracy, it would almost feel like a lash of infatuation towards his now gone friend. 

Whatsoever, Xiaojun pushed the double door open and kicked his shoes off, while Lucas, as expected from his position, prepared to close them behind him when he exited.

— Lucas, wait— said the prince. 

His cursed night over the contiguous room really creeped in his brain so bad he had to close his eyes and take a deep breath before looking up to Xiaojun, trying to detach from his skin the ghost of Ten's breath so long gone. He had told himself thousands of times that thathappened one time only, out of bad decisions, and with all, it had been enough to mark him. 

Xiaojun was seating over the covers of the canopy bed with his legs crossed, pulling from the hairpins and other decorations to take them off his hair before sleeping.

Luckily he wouldn't ask for a bath.

— Yes, majesty? Is there something you want before I go? 

— Yes— he said with a dry voice— Come over here.

Lucas got a grip of his mental strength and closed the doors behind him, walking to the bed. Xiaojun gestured with his head, almost like disinterested, for the page to take a seat on whichever edge of the mattress he wanted. 

That was actually a change. 

It took a moment of Lucas waiting in silence while Xiaojun pulled out the last brooches but then the prince looked straight at him with a piercing gaze that could have gone through him from front to back. He had the longest eyelashes he had ever seen but also a severe look of highness attached to his irises. He had seen him directing that kind of eyes to people a lot of times, at dinners and events, reunions that required him to be a good prince with manners and showcase his own talents every moment he had the possibility to do it. 

One of the last times he had seen it was a week before he took the way out the palace with Ten, when the eldests of the three brothers was assigned for the mission. 

— What is it, majesty? Any problem? 

— You know I'm having my coronation in two days? 

— All the land knows, majesty.

— What does that makes me, in this exact moment?

—The crown prince— he answered with the sparkles of a fire cracking on his tone— And the future of our monarchy.

— So we could say, and I assume— he said looking at him with risky orbs— That you have accepted me as your ruler.

— For a reason I'm up in this chamber, majesty— he affirmed. There was no space for debate with that. His brother vanished abandoning the title, and so he should be divested from all his previous royal privileges.

— Then, Lucas, can you look straight to my face and tell me honestly how was my brother's passing?

A instant of silence filled the royal chamber while the muffled echo of music sounded on the lowest floors like a dreamy melody accompanied by the noise of heels playing under the candle lights in a confidential dark night of the desert. The moon was full and round when the page looked out the window in search of its belated advice of calm. 

Ten had been too fiery and careless for him all along, the page was burning his hands holding on a red-hot iron when the healthiest of the options would be to let go. How many days will it take to accept that? He wondered if that was the night to save himself or if two weeks were just a insignificant spawn of time before running. 

He sighed afflicted and looked at Xiaojun.

— Majesty, this petition is too macabre to be given to my crown prince on a beautiful night.

— Lucas!— he protested, raising a finger in front of his face before the page was able to wrap up the final syllables of the sentence. His heart shifted, feeling like Xiaojun won't drop a conviction as fast as Ten used to do when he denied him, but the words scrapped his throat and his tongue, just to think about the whereabouts of Ten made him want to scream.

— Describing a death scene seems to me like crossing the border, majesty, unsuitable and not elegant.

—Xuxi, don't speak to me like if I was a newborn that can take no adversity. Look at me— he commanded, and so he did, putting the chocolate color of his eyes on the prince with still some security left— I know you think I'm one of the things that made Ten feel miserable day by day, but when I see Hendery suffering for him and asking me if I really think he is being food for fishes, I can drive myself to answer that he is. Because I don't believe it, either. He was my brother too. You and I disagree at times but he is my family and I am ordering you to tell me how he died. How?

— Your highness, It's late...— said Lucas standing up with a sigh but not going far.

— Sit down, immediately— he said almighty, Lucas seating down with an annoyed grimace. He started to take back his wishes of Xiaojun showing differences with his brother as he jumped off the bed and moved closer to him, looking into his eyes with the power of a minister. Why was he feeling like fronting him so hard? It was not easy to go against the crown prince— Tell me. 

— So you want to know?

— Yes.

— The thing is...

— Let me finish talking. I want to know the truth, Lucas, I don't want pleasing words of compassion. Tell me the full story.

— The truth… it may not be so pleasant, my majesty— Xiaojun looked serious at Lucas, but his eyes started melting into some kind of sadness. At least it was him and not the mess of tears by the name of Hendery that only would induce him to more pain if he had to talk about their recent loss.

The prince crossed his arms over his chest, paying attention to the page that breathed in, collecting will

— If I can be a king I can listen to the world's disgraces, so go ahead.

— My majesty, have you ever noticed how your brother liked boys?

— Oh— coughed the royal taken by surprise and a little bit embarrassed by the sudden question— That's a bit of an out of context turn, don't you think, Lucas?

— Believe me when I say it makes sense— he laughed sardonic— As you should have read already, it was a really dark night when we crashed on the rocks of Caleo's sea. I was in the chambers when everything fell off the shelves with a loud tud, and I immediately knew that something was not where it should be, so I made my way to find Prince Ten. The rain was pouring from above as if it was a godsend to tell us about our sins. Everything was damp and cloudy. I came out to the deck and… 

And what? What could Lucas tell the crown prince about the situation? Definitely not the truth, wherein he got hit by reality like a harsh slap and noticed how Ten looked at Taeyong with longing, even under the storm. It was a sweet dripping glance that he could never be under, and so he felt so raging jealous that he had to pull from his hand and separate them. And yet he was alone and in his brother's room while he was probably holding tight on his white sheets. 

— What? What happened?

—T-the vessel shredded in two, I ran to him when he fell on the deck and slipped back towards the edge, my heart was running—he said with his look lost somewhere else while Xiaojun looked at him shocked of seeing Lucas speaking fast and gagged— And then he escaped from my hands so easily... and precipitated to the raged waters of the Middle Sea. 

— He… did? That's it then? My brother died drowned… for the Gods, what a blow… 

— Oh, no, that's not the end.

— Oh… 

— Everything was so fast that I didn't know where I was when the Captain dragged me onto the boat. I felt as if I had fainted momentaneously on my feet and only woke up when I was completely drenched on water and salt from the waves. I didn't know anything about Prince Ten for an entire week. I rowed and walked until I made it to Caleo with the others. They helped me and got treatments for my wounds and then I heard the murmur of people speaking and saying that the prince made it out alive to Per Saxa so I had to try. Prince Chenle was kind to us and rode a horse to find the last piece of the royal prince and bring it here, majesty, but you know he was feeling like drowning worse in the palace than in the ocean. And if something could make it even worse, there was only one thing. Lord Taeyong.

— Excuse me?

— He had crushed on his eyes before the ship crashed on rocks, majesty—Xiaojun sighed, letting himself fall on the header of the bed, leaning back as he processed the story piece by piece while Lucas tried to explain it to him with tact. He rubbed his eyes tired— The start of Prince Ten's heart. He had pulled him out of the water that night and your brother repaid him far exceed.

— Sounds like him. The stupid idiot he has always been…— he murmured quietly to the night's air— He fell in love with him, didn't he?

— You have to only look at his expression when he is with him to know… 

— What's his name again?

— Lee Taeyong. Don't try to see if you remember his name, he is not of nobility.

— Ah… the idiot— he sighed again with the remark— But did he even…? You know, did they…? Together. 

— What can I even know about that, majesty? It's not my concern what the prince wants to do in the intimacy of his chamber— such a big and filthy lie. Lucas had said it tired and outraged. Embarrassed, as well, to top everything— I guess the answer is yes, since Lord Taeyong brightened up the same way, everytime.

— Gods...— said Xiaojun incredulously with a click of his tongue afterwards— He ran away…

Lucas waited while Xiaojun pieced the whole story together, with a socked and thoughtful expression. 

He traded the crown to get his heart back, after years of standing still while his most loved things were teared off his hands. The prince couldn't tell if that was a noble reason or not, but the more he thought about it, the less he could comprehend. Who in the Four Kingdoms displays such childish behaviour. 

He raised his eyes to the page in front of him again, feeling like daggers, getting him to know it was a full reproach for even allowing him to complete such a mindless action and then cover him, after all. But it wasn't like that, Lucas would have opposed one million and one times to it, and the crown prince was ignorant to it.

Xiaojun was not the type of person that gives you a scolding right away, not that soon without analyzing the options on hand. He stepped off the bed and walked to the door in order to offer a silent invitation for Lucas to leave his chamber. To be from the fire region, he was, sometimes, cold as an icicle but that was maybe one of the things that made him so suitable for the title. 

He better be, if they didn't count the full moon night ahead, he just had one day before being crowned with, gold, rubies and the sacred honor of Ignis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys, i need new people to follow on twitter, if you guys wanna follow me my user is the same as here (@leechailatten).


	3. Blooming

Also flowers hung above Ten' head. 

He thought Taeyong had forgotten about it. 

His weekend had started on friday afternoon when the eldest closed the store for the weekend. They had filled a lot of pages of requested embroidery on their agenda to the point they had to start declining some, but they were happy to see that either out of admiration for his work in the palace or at least guided by the morbid curiosity for the boy that was sent into _exile_ by their prince, they could eat well that month. 

However, Taeyong had now two hands more that helped him drawing patterns as he translated them to beautiful stitches for the cuffs of the citizen's cloaks, shirts or even tablecloths and curtains. About these last ones, Ten suggested with a humorous tone that they should only sell white curtains at the store as a memento. 

It was a good moment to rejoin to the market, everyone in Ventum Angis was going through an erratic impulse of consumerism due to the national holidays coming around the corner, looking up to be the dazzling star of gatherings, weather they would be spent at the palace, in a village or tiptoeing in the crowded central plaza to see Jungwoo climb up the temporary arbor and light up the first lantern of the city before all the tiny lights appeared like fireflies towards the night sky. 

Taeyong had to measure some specially snotty noblewoman that needed a blue skirt with silver jewelry on the side. She paid a significant extra for the mercer to do it with priority and have it finished before the night so he was stuck home- or the workshop, it was the same house in different floors- so he somehow worried about Ten’s boredom appearing at some point inside the small and stark house in which he lived, smaller than the palace for sure. The eldest suggested to him, then, to explore a little bit more of the city by himself once that he knew the main way back home. 

Ten was at the market early in the morning. He was glad to his _boyfriend_ \- oh, the way he loved naming him like that. Is not that Ten claimed the apelative to the wind but even if it was only in his mind it felt like a sun ray- for sending him out with a smile, knowing that Ten was eagerly craving to see new places. 

He trusted him enough to let him go alone, and so he didn’t feel like a useless child anymore, always taken care of. 

He knew the youngest would choose the most tricky paths and that he would end arriving later than he was supposed to expect him, but it was good to see him so happy and joyful. 

Indeed, the former prince ended standing under the sunshade of a stand, waiting for the owner lady to finish packaging his bread buns on the box. He wasn’t very sure of what type of desert he was purchasing, he had never tasted the country's delicacies, but it for sure smelt good like fine pastry so he went for it. The package really spelled the same aroma and he inhaled deeply when he had it on his hands, not rushing to move over since there was no one behind him waiting in line. 

He carefully counted the coins, getting used to counting yen and not yuan, and handed them to the lady with a smile.

— Thank you, young lad, I wish I had visits like yours everyday— she said, making Ten giggle out of the unexpected appellative. He didn’t have practice answering those, but she was back at him even before he could get embarrassed for not knowing how to take a velated compliment— Your smile is really something, you should have a tone of bouquets at your door today, am I wrong?

He furrowed his eyebrows not understanding well, and shook his head. 

— Should I? Why? 

— You are not from here, uh?— said the shopkeeper, acknowledging the situation, and Ten shook his head slightly— I suspected it when i saw you, your skin is so tanned for November in the Wind Country… Well, as you probably know already just by the mere look around the city, today it’s Winter’s Start but some people call this day the “Flower Day”. The cold starts and flowers are going to freeze soon, so young lovebirds give flowers to the person they like today. It’s all over the place, kid.

— Oh… is that so?

—Yes, all the fellows know this tradition, is pretty extended so don’t get surprised when you are covered in petals.

Ten tilted his head, pensive. 

He also used to have a similar celebration in his land, with another seasonal excuse but the concept was the same. And it was true that he always got his room full of flowers and glasses to a point where he would have suffered if he was allergic to pollen. He knew that waking up to that interior garden that his chamber was for a day, was only a result of his status and not his personality itself so he never cared that much. 

But now, in a moment when he was head-over-heels for Taeyong and he didn’t own a flower, his hands felt empty. Empty from agesture, that was he craved more, beyond diamonds and gold. 

He told himself it was an stupid concern, it was true that the hustle and bustle of their arrival and acomodation in his old house, they didn’t have much time to spare with snuggles. Taeyong was busy claiming his old house back, resuming his work and sharing it with Ten too. They arrived some days ago and maybe he wasn’t even into holidays regarding the royal house. 

However, impulsed by his craving for him in an even deeper way after the initial fire of passion, Ten decided to do it himself. He asked the baker lady where the nearest florist was, and even though he struggled a bit finding the correct store, he walked home with a white magnolia of long stem, ready to be put in a glass to decorate their room. 

He was proud of it, he was proud of the embellishing look and the smell of the plant, sweet but too dim to be sickening sweet, as well. It was just like his Taeyong, who was pretty concentrated, to say the least, when Ten arrived home and crossed the workshop careful of not knocking any stretcher down. 

The youngest leaned on the back of his chair, quietly staring at his task unraveling with order across the material of what seemed to be a baby’s apron. It was too small and so were the decorations that the mercer was deliciously sewing on it. 

— Did you finish with the skirt of Lady Sana?

— Aham— hummed Taeyong calm— I started this order because it’s small and I was filling the time of your absence with something. You are running late, prince.

Ten knew he wasn’t reproaching him, he could see the smile even when Taeyong didn’t tear his eyes from the apron to look back at him. He was picking on him for fun as he always did from the beginning. He let himself lean further, one of his arms lacing around his shoulders to pull Taeyong closer.

— Did you charge her a lot for the job?— he said with a small voice that didn’t mean hesitation but, on contraire, flirtatious remarks from the desert’s former prince.

— Maybe a little more of what I was supposed to— he said musically and equally softly but brushing Ten away a little— Dear, I'm going to pluck you, be careful.

Ten laughed slightly and decided to let go of him with a tint of reluctance and a bitter aftertaste under his tongue. He inhaled air. He had to get used to not be the prince of the house, learn that Taeyong won't prostrate for him and, obviously, not wanting that in one million years. But why did it disappoint him? Even if it was in a small extense, he felt needy of that romantic and idiotic tradition that he just learned an hour ago. 

He let the flower over Taeyong's stretcher, hooking the stem between the tables, kissing his hair softly before getting up definitely to let him work calm as he found him.

— I love you.

He smiled to himself as he made his way up the stairs and heard his lover hiss behind his back getting so surprised he ended being the one to pluck the tip of his finger with the needle. 

He could have counted the hours that Taeyong took to finish the order. One and a half. It wasn't long but it was relentlessly tortuous because his mind was twirling with how he should act in front of that celebration, his hands getting busy unpacking clothes that they bought new with one of Ten's old rings, placing them on their now shared closet.

Everything smelt like Taeyong. All the house, the clothes and the bed had his perfume to it and he could not raise one single word against it, drowning In the atmosphere he had craved so much. 

He noticed, just then, what had been going on with his heart for the past hours. 

He needed Taeyong again, beyond the border, and even worse now that he had the certainty that the eldest could be his. It was an impulse to own him, and the quiet calm of his lover was driving him to the edge of hysteria, pondering about whether he wanted him as bad or not. 

The first two days after running away were too hectic and full of fear to share intimacy. The last day on board was drowsy and a bit turbulent. The entire week was a come and go of preparations in their new home. But now the waters were calm and free time wasn't doing him well. 

Could he have forgotten about an iconic date like the Flower's Day seemed to be or did he just thought about it lightly. 

His heart was erratic. 

— Ten— his name resonated from the bottom floor like rainpour mixed with sun. He peeked out from the staircase and saw the mercer standing at the end of it, his coat over his clothes and the white flower kissing the side of his hair. His curiosity peaked up laced with the emotion born from Taeyong's look— Try on your new and first coat and come here, let's have a walk.

His stomach kind of flipped over, not knowing exactly why.

— We are going out? 

— It’s _Saturday_ , dear— he answered with a grin that made Ten bit his lips. So he was aware of the date— Did you think being middle-low class requires only work? It's a holiday, let me show you around. 

He nodded. Torn between happiness for the beginning of the life he craved and frustration because of his doubts on romantic focused holidays, Ten put his coat in the blink of an eye and flew down the stairs. 

The coat was longer than the local trend settled, sandy yellow trimmed with red decorations and especially chosen by a Taeyong that would never grow used to see the royal red of his lips pale if surrounded with trivial colors. 

His classical jump off the last step of a row of stairs was this time intercepted by the eldest, skillfully catching him by his hips before his feet touched the wooden floor. That was it, that time, Ten's gasp hiccuped past his lips, but the intense gaze of Taeyong from under him pulled him down like a magnetic field, noting with gravity how the mercer playfully let Ten's body slip down between his hold until his slippers were on the ground again and his height back to the one that let then fuse on a kiss. 

A kiss to sweet to be just casual, too slow to not be an exquisite memory in Ten's mind. The one that he needed and didn't have time to get. A love kiss from Taeyong that stunt him from head to feet as his hand took his face to lift it up higher and have a better angle, his free arm wrapping around him and pulling against his chest. He had to bite his own lips after it and hold on the taste of Taeyong's mouth lasting on there.

— Majesty— he barely murmured, teasing Ten who slowly opened his eyes to him and his smirk. He couldn't hold it in, he had to bite back a little.

— Lord Taeyong… Are you playing trickery on me? To be my adored subject I seriously think you lack conscience— the corner of his lips moved up higher with every word. His hand abandoned his face to take his hands tenderly and pull from him towards the door.

— I need to show you something, do you want to follow me?

— Didn't I follow you all the way home, my love? 

— That's exactly why I want to show you.

Ten had to admit he nailed it. The mystery he loved, the adventure and the introduction of new places were all in the plan as Taeyong pushed him through the waves of scattered people that were thicker as clocks ticked towards midnight. Everyone was heading to the Central plaza, their celeste blue robes of satin shining around as they moved with the best accessories they could attach to them, but Taeyong seemed to not care about a damn thing, walking in the opposite direction. He knew Ten had had enough of expensive drapings and glass plates already. He even wondered how he was the first person to notice those gifts didn't make him happy, his countenance was a clean mirror of his disgust everytime. 

Finally, the eldest one turned a corner, going into a serpentine alley that looked all the things that weren't popular. 

Taeyong had thought about it even while on _Nashira Star_ or while Ten painted dragons on the sketching paper for a requested set of tablecloths and napkins. He wanted to make it up for him and his lost years trapped on his birdcage of stone. 

He saw his eyes lighting up, enjoying the scenery in which they have arrived by their own, and he rejoiced more on the shine of emotion and his puffy cheeks of happiness than in what he had ahead. 

An absolute mirror. People just didn't have any idea of how to look at him. 

Ten walked some more steps, his feet slightly sinking on the grass of the garden. It was small and a little hidden by houses but it was truthfully superb. 

The refreshing cold raised from a round fountain in the middle of the cobbles that formed that secret space, pushing lazily from the white flowers that Ten didn't recognize but loved as they floated on the water. The trees were so thick, there were pines and also weeping willows, all peppered by dozens of white and pink carnations. 

His head snapped back to watch the mercer smile like a fool, melted by the simplest of the awards he could get. Ten's happiness.

— You thought I had forgotten it— Ten pouted. He felt guilty for doubting it, it was just that he wanted so many things from him, he desired him so badly, that his mind sometimes strived to impatience— These are my flowers for you. Sorry that it took me a bit long today, you are used to a different amount of gifts and I didn't want to disappoint you.

— This is demential, Taeyong. A flower... would have made it just fi-

—You are my prince— he stated, the blue-blooded boy stunned looking at him with his words instead of the garden. He was right when he guessed that Taeyong was the only one allowed to call him such a title, and more than that, deep inside he battled himself to not directly encourage him to do it and burn his senses if he indulged— And so I thought that my prince doesn't deserve less than this. Only this much is worthy of you, so it can compare.

Ten's heart crumbled and recomposed back up in the spawn of one second. He regretted all his previous thoughts of doubting his reciprocity, no matter how tiny they were, he felt like they didn't fit in their relationship. 

When he wanted to notice, he was already two inches away from his beloved, his hands running across his chest and pulling from the collar of his robe to fuse into a kiss that required much intimacy. Even before the mercer could pull away he was smiling and letting Ten lead them both towards the rim of the fountain, path they made between breathed out promises of love mixed with the vapor from their mouths hitting the cold air. 

— I am blessed without even praying— he mumbled, his words messing against Taeyong's pink lips— Because of you. You are a godsend, aren't you? 

— Shut up, it's so cold at night, just warm me up a little, touch me a little…

— And you say I'm your prince— said Ten approaching him more, with his finger tracing the mercer's jawline with barely a caress, his lips looking swollen and pretty like all the other flowers. The weight of the youngest slowly fell over him to lay his back on the tiles of the fountain's rim— You are a whole king, an emperor. 

—Here you are. The Ten that is all purposeful and resolute, not a trace of shyness when it comes to go after something you want, uh? 

— Yes, here I am. And with a lot less of woes to take care of now, so you can be sure that all my attention is on you. 

— Tell me you love me— he wishpered. Ten looked to him with the golden of his eyes darkening a bit— Tell me you love me once more like you did before.

— I love you, Tayong.

Taeyong sighed and the sky darkened more than it was suddenly. It felt like if the lights turned off for them and only the small light of the garden's lanterns were willing to stay. The moon disappeared behind a shadow that they didn't bother to stop and glimpse, only enjoying the smell of the flowers, the revitalizing cold on their skin and the shine of yellow dots in the sky when they finally got to see all the paper lanterns flying on the sky from where they were laying. 

Ships so big they scared the moonlight were not a concern in that moment of calm. Perhaps the width was too opulent for a couple of dreamers and they were merely thought to scare a sacred nation. 

Ignis had dressed itself on the best gowns that Saturday too, but that wasn't due to a seasonal holiday. The calendars were marking the day with red circles, a fact that made Xiaojun change his well-built composure for a walk with a sprinkle of hesitation, subtle like a single grain of rose peppercorn. 

Lucas noticed it, anyways. Once you learn a prince is human too, the lesson is hard to forget, especially when you learn it in a bad way. 

The crown prince had been a tomb, his lips have been sealed about their secret discussion back at the chamber for days. Lucas could have even doubted if everything was a dream, but it wasn't. 

— Don't move— the page told him, noticing just later how imposing his tone sounded while trying to clip the brooch on his brunette curls, under the crown, so he added— That much, majesty. 

A king-in-waiting, the prince Xiaojun, nothing less, was standing in front of the mirror trying to retouch all the little details. 

He was such a perfectionist when the responsibility came to the table, that getting dressed for so long was a cultivated routine of his before being seen. No matter if he was not very preppy or egocentric with his appearance, because he could see that he looked out of this world. 

It was the crown, still deserving of only a prince, with a beautiful shine of gold and black spinels that went well with his rather fair skin. He liked to wear it, carry it around with pride after so much time spent as a student of all the competencies he needed. His thick fan of his lashes only gave the people more reasons to believe his luminous resemblance was worthy from heavenly designed royalty. 

— Let it be, Lucas, it’s fine already and I don’t want to run late.

He held the edge of his clothes, moving across the halls with a heavy presence of all glittering jewels and velvet materials that didn’t even make sense on a desert like Ignis, dressing up his core of kindness as he advanced to the balcony, at the east facade of the palace. 

Next to the king, and leaving a space in the middle of it, Hendery was there already, enveloped in much lighter clothes than him together with his classical veil, all in white like an opposite to his own attire, the crown shining underneath more shyly. 

Hearing his steps of tingling paraphernalia, the youngest had turned to see his brother approaching the scene, his expression wanting to be warming and joyful but hitting only to make it a kind tenderness.

The idiot refused to act like everyone else and fake his own feelings.

However, coming out to the open balcony was a cause of loud “oohs” and “aahs” everywhere in the crowd standing underneath, always under, while the protagonist of the entire celebration was announced by his father and the flags ran up on the wind for him. 

— Nervous?— asked the youngest prince as he took both hands of his brother in his and proceeded to pour a thin thread of blessed water on them like tradition said. Somehow he supposed it won’t unravel this way when his moment to do it came but the scene was already running. 

— I believed it would be worse.

Hendery chuckled, Xiaojun really didn’t know why. He let the small jar of water aside and started drying his hands with a towel, looking at him directly for a moment. 

— This is different from what I imagined, as well.

— You wanted to wipe Ten’s hands, I know.

— No, I wanted him to wipe yours, get yourself together, brother— he said serious to him and then smiled again, confidently warming him up this time around— Listen, I can't imagine a better heir of the throne than you, I want to tell you that before your coronation tomorrow… because I feel like I haven’t been the best support for you lately and I’m afraid you could forget my affection.

Music started sounding down in the crowd, indicating that his blessing was done and he could carry on with formalities and complete his day of pledging allegiance to the flag, however, Xiaojun took a moment longer to stare at Hendery, paused.

He wanted to tell him the truth about the piece of the puzzle they were lacking, but he had to bite his tongue for the best. 

It was a hard reality but the moment, the surroundings of their life after October, needed a cold mind and measure in their every move. He couldn’t just spit it to Hendery’s face like if it was nothing, could he? 

He took the impulse and left him behind, standing by his side as his feet dragged him to his father and he pulled the veil off his head. Everyone gasped and cheered more watching beautiful prince Xiaojun with the full length of his divinity spreading across the land, bowing in front of his father just some moments before looking forward to everyone. 

— Do you promise loyalty to our flag and badge? Do you commit to the protection and benefits of the Land of Ignis?— read his father out loud as Xiaojun stood with the palm of his hand high. Ten would have stormed over those verses. He tried not to think about him anymore, Lucas told him the episode and he considered it closed now. You must own your own hook. His eyes were becoming more fierce for the people, the crowd elbowing each other to point their company’s attention to how elegant the crown prince looked even from down there— Do you promise to act with sense and solidarity to all the members of our regions, standing in our kingdom as a sign of respect? 

— I promise.

Hendery shuddered. 

— Then swear, with all our people standing here today as witnesses, that you’ll carry your duty with integrity, honor and courage.

— I swear. I swear to the whole land my endless kindness— he conveyed but only silence greeted him. 

Tense silence without a bat of applause, followed by the collective exclamation of the whole city he just swore loyalty to. 

He looked down from the balcony and asked himself what had he done wrong to make the panic awake on the faces of his people. He had studied all the requirements well there was no way he messed up, even when he was eight he had practiced in front of the mirror for this moment.

Then, Hendery's hand clutched onto his arm so hard he felt his nails through the royal coat of sateen covering him. 

— Brother — he breathed out with a sense of terror filling his voice, the crown prince turning to look at him frightened. 

Hendery’s face was a painting of surprise and pain, splattered with some crimson watercolors, surrounded by his beautiful veil that was now creasing around the arrow that stuck through it and into the youngest’s flesh.

Xiaojun’s eyes widened as the blood started spreading across the filaments of his robe like a blooming flower, his instinct allowing him to only surround his brother with his arm before he stumbled back, forgetting the manners for once and letting the people see the nature of his preoccupation while they stared at the balcony astonished. 

— Hendery! I… are you okay!?— he didn’t answer that question, his legs just trembled making the crowd gasp in unison when Hendery tried to hold on something else with his knees giving up to his weight, both princes crunching down towards the floor to lean him against the railing and get into a safer place. 

— Princes, step aside— claimed the royal guard stepping into the scene with his very own arc in position to shoot. 

It was in that moment when Xiaojun processed all what was going on and realized they were under attack. Their kingdom -his kingdom- was under attack, and the black form of Sicheng’s guard dress was now posted on top of the railing like a heron scrutinizing the surroundings trying to find the attacker of his brother, the guards mobilizing across the plaza while the villagers started moving fast and running to their homes as they were indicating. 

He felt like he was cooling down by his brother's side but he held on, keeping his chin high, down on the floor sustaining him.

The youngest one looked at him right in the eyes.

— Take it out.

— Hendery… 

— Take it out now, Xiaojun, it hurts!— he yelled with desperation. The crown prince grabbed the far end of the arrow but Hendery squirmed, his eyes shutting hard just like he was expecting he would.

— I can't do it— he sighed releasing it quickly as it was a pricking stem with thorns, his voice was trembling.

— Xiaojun! 

Hendery was his youngest brother, he had none of the blame on everything that was happening, and he was the one bleeding, he couldn't feel anything but grief towards him. Grief and… anger. His spirit raged looking at the strength of him weakening, fronting him in that state that almost verged into hyperventilation. 

Lucas run to them and tried not to push Xiaojun over too hard despise of his certain wants, to not hurt his prince-ness, when he kneeled down and wrapped his hand on the projectile, strongly determined to end the agonizing whimpers of the youngest royal that escaped between his clenched teeth.

— Look at me, manesty, come on, look at me— he urged him trying to be calm and actually far from being a participant of that emotion. The royal looked up from his wound, but to his brother again. Nonetheless, Lucas conformed with it. He took a deep breath in and yanked the thing out of his shoulder, coming out together with a pitiful sound, too loud to be called a moan.

— Gods! 

Xiaojun couldn't even hear the real silence that got to them after the shout of pain of Hendery, it was drowned by the beating of his heart pounding and the wind being cut by the tense string of Winwin's arc. He was paralyzed for the first time in so long that there was nothing inside his brain for him to say to any of them. 

But it didn’t last long. 

He tried to collect himself, although he wasn't trained for this kind of task and he never put into his plan the fact of his brother being arrowed, it was political after all.

— Your highness… — murmured Lucas. When Xiaojun finally obliged himself to tear his eyes from Hendery being nauseous with his head leaning on the wall behind him, he looked at the page that called him. In his blood stained hand he was holding the arrow, and hanging from it in a thin fishin thread. A small crystal figure, now stained with royal red, of a dragon was swinging in the air. 

He squinted his eyes and took him on his palm to examine it. It definitely was political, and the anger condensed finally onto his brain together with the blood of his brother pooling on his hand to give the fish a bigger tank. 

Xiaojun stood up and went back to his position at the balcony where now Winwin was being like a guard gargoyle. 

Lucas paid attention to him, watching the prince whisper indications to Sicheng that he could not hear or be a participant of, but he didn’t need to be a genius or part of the high-range council to know what the order was when the royal guard jumped off the balcony with a subtle facility.


	4. The Black Arrow

One step away from the throne. One step away from everything he ever breathed and lived for. Just one. And he felt cold as ever. Xiaojun was walking across the reception hall, his black clothes sensing the tiles of the floor, his crown being torn from his head and getting a difficult hold of his self-control not to toss it on the floor and break it in thousands of silver and black pieces. 

Dong Sicheng grew up with him, and as well with his two brothers. Son of the best royal soldier, he had been accredited inside palace and permitted to learn and train with them, so Xiaojun didn’t stand any doubt surrounding the fact of Sicheng’s skills when he murmured his order to him, sending the archer to find the attacker and bring him dead or alive to front penalty. 

It sounded harsh as hell, the way he pronounced the words one by one over his ear was soaked in remorse and fury. It was well known, from the monster of this story that in occasions a prince doesn’t react well to adversity led towards their person, their kingdom or their self-esteem. But Sicheng, with all, was still a vassal, not a royal, and he couldn't go contrary to an order from the prince or king, no matter if this one was out of heated blood or if it made him fear the consequences of the agraviation to the prince. 

After all, the princes with the best hold of empathy were either Ten or Hendery, and none were in condition to take a step over the situation. 

The crown prince Xiaojun had witnessed the capacities of the archer far extended. The son of a soldier could throw a litchi up in the air, hit it with an arrow nailing it to a tree and then shoot another arrow that sliced the first one in two. 

Same with a human heart. 

Shooting from afar was his forte, and so he felt specially challenged when that was the chosen way to floor his youngest- and dearest- prince. An arrow to the shoulder could be called a missed shot by many, but Sicheng had seen enough from this world to know it wasn’t such. It was on purpose, like a cruel warning of what they had to come. 

He remembered how bad an arrow shot burns on your shoulder, because he had been through it too, adding the equally wicked sensation of it when it’s pulled out at the nursery and the nearest qualified person gives you stitches. That was, without beating around the bush, a premeditated grudge against Ignis crown, and it hurt on his heart to know how bad Hendery could sense the pain of the metal arrowhead. Whoever shot that arrow to prince Hendery was not a novice, and definitely knew what he or she was doing. No wonder why it was taking Sicheng so long to trace them, running across the tallest ceilings that had an open view to the palace west wall. It felt like an almost unreachable trace of clean tiles. 

With that being said, Winwin wasn’t just someone, either. 

He stopped behind the wide chimney that peeked up from the bakery’s roof, his agile body fitting on the space like a well hidden animal in the jungle. Sicheng really knew how to be stealthy and gracile with his movements every time, and everybody knew that. What was not so known referent to his skill was his good hearing that was capturing the small screeching of tile against tile while the other person moved his feet really slow and calculated. He took one arrow from the quiver, placing it on the compound arc with no rush, almost as if his intention all along was caresing the cord with the black feathers. Far from it, the gentleness of the arrow would fade as soon as he shot it towards him. 

He didn't want to kill him. Yet. He was a clever boy, always curious about the art of war that thought him enough to escalate in his job, even with dead parents, cold minded enough to not pulverize him straight away, he knew there should be something else behind all the performance of shooting the prince in front of everyone and that, despise the crown prince Xiaojun being full of hatred now, he would like to be able to cut the problem from the root, not only superficiality. 

Maybe it was worse to give it to him alive, but that… really wasn't a problem that Sicheng should be judging. He was powerless on that one, his permissions nonexistent. 

It was not honest to be judge and jury. 

The air sounded on his sensitive eardrums, being cut by the projectile that crossed it in less than a second. Sichen was always pinpointed, that's why he owned the name "WinWin" by the professor and now the apelative extended to the closest court. 

Metal and wood nailed on the flesh of his opponent with a muffled sound and an immense force that dragged him back against the bricks of the bakery's wall. 

He hung from his right shoulder just like Hendery. 

Sicheng was not a fan of the  _ "an eye for an eye" _ life motive, but better believe this case was worthy of using it. 

— Fuck.  _ Fuck! _ You lame bastard, let me… go… — he mumbled, pinned like a butterfly, the violence dying down inside his throat as Sicheng turned around his hiding corner and walked to the man that was now caught motionless because of his arrow. The rest of his body was still untouched, the raising of his arc and arrow stopped in front of him with a shine of his big eyes that flashed a strange sensation for Sicheng. He had no time for bullshit so he just grabbed the blue tunic by the collar and yanked from it with strength. The tact of it, the color and material… the grayish twirl of dragons on the sleeves screamed Ventum Angis from side to side, and that was not a banal thing to ignore— Oh wow, you are quite beautiful for being so lethal… 

That was a very personal remark that Sicheng didn't expect- or like- naturally. 

Is not like being praised after shooting to arrest was common, he was more than used to curses, calls upon his karma and insults, but flattery was out of his league, foreign to his dictionary. 

His only response for it in storage was to smack his cheek with the reverse of his hand. He deserved it, however, for what he did to his prince so Sicheng camouflaged his discomfort and helplessness behind offense to his land, and he maybe let the remorse for Hendery's injury permeate into the hit too. It sounded loud across the evening air of Ignis and made his enemy turn his face for the inertia of the slap, holding his jaw right after in pain. 

— How dare you? 

— Temperamental, I see. You are a nice set.

— You have the right to remain silent, it's a royal order— demanded Sicheng as he pulled him up again from the collar. He had really big eyes of no fear, a smirk that pushed the royal guard to hate him even more than he was already carrying from home since the moment he shot, and a red soft hair tied on a little tail. That was the typical beauty from Angis. His words felt like a spit of venom when he started again— You're under arrest.

— Recite me my felonies, so I can hear your voice— answered the intruder, firing Sicheng's mood to boiling hot rage with his teasy flirty tone. He controlled himself to not smash him against the wall. He surprised himself, he was not an easy person to riddle up, that wasn't his nature, he was calm. But that guy… that guy had the inherent ability of sparking the bonfire of his chest— I have the right to hear your reasons to pull me over with this impetus, soldier.

— I don't need to read you your charges, and I'll tell you why.

— Tell me— He said with his chin too high and mock in his voice.

— Because my king is the one who is going to take on that task, and I assure you he is a big storm when it's required.

— I hit a nerve, didn't I?— This time the black archer didn't find strength to control himself and truthfully gave the foreigner a strong tud against the wall that made the other hold on a gasp of pain because of the arrow still piercing his shoulder. He caught him good. And he still smiled.  _ "Sickening smile _ ", he should have to wear that for a nickname. Sicheng wanted to ignore him, he wouldn't get him with games.

— Prince Xiaojun is wise, and kind, but a scum like you did attack our Land, did hurt our prince and our pride in a national holiday, so there's no mercy on your person. It's clear that you have no shame or education within your dark heart, so I'm going to tell you that no, you didn't hit my nerve, but you violated my country and my family, so I don't even consider you worthy of my sympathy. The prince has more power than me to put you in your place. 

_ "Maybe I should have shot to the heart" _ he thought for a moment. But it was no way back.  _ "Be cold minded, Sicheng, this is for the best result. Patience" _

— Then bring me to the one you call your king, or your crown prince, I have to give him a message from mine. You are not the only royal guard here, Winwin.

His words, way too shocking for the guard to process when they laced with his name, were followed by a swift move that kicked him back from him, giving the intruder the time to crack the arrow in two, freeing himself with leftover seconds to draw a sword and point it to him and a trace of red worthy of a bloodbath. 

It clashed against the cooper covered sword of Sicheng, holding each other in place with a controlled strength gathering on the weapons. The black haired one had the start of a scathing comment about to drip from his tongue, a sly smirk on his face and smugness on his glance. Too soon. He was so good that sometimes he forgot he wasn't invincible. The enemy "archer" gave him a low kick on his legs and knocked him over, the guard falling backwards on the roof with a rising cloud of dust and sand. 

He could feel the cold edge of the sword against his throat with a petulant accuracy. His glance didn't fall, it stood fighting against the red haired guard smiling upon him. 

— Your sword won't hurt me, I'm too far ahead to let myself die for such a low opponent.

— Make me a favour and pull that beautiful face of yours outta your ass— he said amused, making Sicheng angle his face while being pushed with the cold blade to see his side profile— You are not the only one who is fucking good at his thing. Believe me when I say you wouldn't be breathing if I didn't have all my movements planned. Do you think I didn't want you to find me and bring me to Xiaojun? 

—  _ Prince _ Xiaojun, for you— He spat back— You will address him properly.

— Of course, of course...— Retailed the red haired— But if I were you I would pull up fast from that floor, I have a lot of things to communicate to  _ his royal majesty Prince Xiaojun _ . Is not that I'm in much of a hurry, you know? But maybe you and your kingdom are, given the situation. My prince, Kim Jung Woo, is sailing all the way here, I estimate is going to be four or five days until he arrives at the port. He is also a hurricane if needed … time is ticking, sweet Winwin, so move. Now. 

The sword retired, his neck free to do the impulsive movement he suddenly did after hearing such lighthearted threaten. With a voice so sweet and words so cutting, he felt like he had been slapped pretty hard. He felt it coming through his body, a massive mass of feelings that made him finally consider that boy like a real person, an opponent and a challenge. He wanted to… to… strangle him. And Sicheng was not a person that was easily dragged by senseless fury. 

Feral. He made Sicheng feel feral.

— You goddamn disgrace, son of one hundred and one whores, repeat that to my face! 

He stopped and looked back at the black archer with a smirk that suddenly faded and shaped into a threatening dark frown.

— My name is Yuta, maybe you want to consider address me properly, so in case you need to course over me tonight you do accurately and your Gods give you a hand. You are going to need it. 


	5. Strings and rope

— Again— he said in a tremulous murmur.

The bard raised his eyes to the voice that he could recognize blindly and looked at him wanting to bite his lips. One stare at his face, again, drained the oxygen from his lungs, and yet, standing in the tavern where he was he had to pull back from the leash that tied all his impulses. He recovered the daydream of playing for him with a playful smile on his face like every time he made the zither sound at the garden for him before, when he sang invented songs that slowly drifted to outrageous satire and lighthearted loveliness. 

Jaehyun's fingertips were numb and sore from pressing the cords, they felt like they would start bleeding at any moment but little he cared. He gave away his smile of undying charm.

— It would be two coins 

— Two? The fare has risen drastically— Jaehyun giggled. Why was he always so stingy with money, stupid merchant. He pulled out his palm, extending it towards the eldest one as his smile grew bigger 

— Coins are what makes me able to eat warm meals— he said despreocupate as the eldest took the hand that was meant to serve him as a place to deposit the price— I don't get nutrients out of air and your seducer's eyes 

— Hun… 

— Johnny— he replied still playing hard to get but with a chuckle of happy excitement that lasted just enough to crash on the lips of the merchant when he was done getting close to him to give him a kiss from the deepest part of his heart— You have no shame 

— In front of you? Never 

The tavern was a miscellaneous of curious eyes, amused laughs and disconcerted people that was discovering in that exact moment that the sweet-eyed bard with the attractive body was very keen to let himself go in the arms of another man. Again, little he cared while he was giving him the kiss back and battling the passion in which he wasn't short. 

— You are early, what's the occasion? 

— That I missed you with my entire heart?

— Try again— dismissed Jaehyun with a roll of his eyes knowing that Johnny wouldn't say no to a day of work, for more than he missed him, losing money in the way was not his preference. Johnny got closer to his ear to murmur another answer 

— That this country is colder than Ignis, which is especially notorious when I don't have your sweet sweet… 

— Stop there, champion— laughed Jaehyun seeing the disappointed expression of his lover when he caught his wrists before his hands could make the way over anywhere they shouldn't be at— You have one chance left, if not, I will go to Taeil and ask him, instead. He is nice and doesn't beat around the bush like you 

— Oh, that's because he is a boring elder and doesn't know how nice it's to play around with you 

— My Gods… you are specially silver-tongued today, uh? I'm about to believe you came earlier because you missed me

— Of course I missed you. But actually...— said Johnny separating from him now and dedicating a more serious stare at him, right into his chestnut eyes— You are right, I have another reason 

— Of course I am right, you speak as if I don't know you— said Jaehyun going back to his chair and packing his instrument carefully. This one was new, reddish and more polished. His old zhiter with flowers was lost in the Middle Sea now, which was an enormous pity because he was fond of it, but it had no remedy anymore. The merchant followed his movements as he helped Jaehyun packing the bag of coins and a bunch of other belongings inside the zhiter case

— You know me. Every inch of me, I would say 

— Is it that deep, John?

The tint of humor was disappearing as they kept conversing. Truth is that Johnny was warm hearted and that he offered the kind of sweet words a man deserves to hear from his lover often. Jaehyun was used to them, but with a limit. And counting with the fact that they had been talking for only five minutes and the sugar coated talk was falling like rain pour, he had the right to be preoccupied. Because the last time he heard Johnny wording his thoughts so romantic and passionate, the floor was trembling under his feet and the night swallowing the vessel in which they had been traveling. 

— Maybe it is— he simply replied with a shrug of his shoulders. He made a brief pause to take a look at the bard, no matter how well he knew that profile already, he always enjoyed the way the light went through the long of his lashes— There are ships on the horizon, heading to the east 

—There's always ships in Per Saxa's horizon, love, they have a busy port and the market is very strong in Ignis, so they travel. You are a terrible mercha-

—They are no merchant vessels— stated Johnny, serious, grabbing his attention again— But galleons. Around five of them. They were passing in front of the outer shores yesterday, they should be about four days away from Ignis now 

—Galleons?— said Jaehyun understanding why was his friend so agitated, facing him again like if it was the first time in the evening. It was worry what he was feeling, and he knew Johnny was at the same state with the mere look of his eyes. He suddenly started tying the things inside his brain, his ideas lacing with that new tale going around the bars and other leisure areas. The one that had been making him tilt his head with thousands of questions— Tell me they are not coming from the West 

Johnny made a crooked grimace when Jaehyun asked such an accurate question, and then he nodded. Jaehyun quickly took his wrist and pulled him aside a little bit so they weren't in the middle of the room where everyone could listen to their heavy hearted discussion.

— You know anything about this? I sold a hairpin to a noblewoman the other day, she came with her granddaughter, and they were interminably going on about Ventum Anguis holidays. I thought royalty never leaves the country during national holidays and found it so weird. I'm afraid it could be a problematic event and I… actually came back for that reason. I didn't want to let you alone in a new city if something serious is going on. Not again… 

— I honestly have been hearing some rumors come and go… but I don't know to what extent are those true. As a bard myself I can tell the truth is always so deep in verses 

— What, what? What did you hear? 

— I heard… that a prince died in a shipwreck not far from here. And some other stupid stories that surround that one, one more ridiculous than the previous one. I even heard the version where the prince jumped, on purpose, off the ship into the ocean to quench the fire of his royal heart 

— Gods… so you think... Prince Ten finally died that day? Do you think it is him who they talk about?

— A prince of fire… dying recently on a shipwreck… I would put my hand to bet and say it was Prince Ten of Ignis, yes 

— That's so tragic I'm speechless— said Johnny, indeed touched by the news that made a deep line appear between his eyebrows and his eyes flutter rapidly— I had the hope, when Doyoung was called to the Garden City, that he survived. Guess that was only hearsay. Damn… He was so young… so beautiful

— I understand now— cut Jaehyun furrowing his eyebrows and thinking hard, still. Johnny took a breath to pull the brunette hair of his friend to the side and reveal his forehead, so tenderly trying to ease the tension of a moment like that— An empty throne is always an easier target, no matter if the palace is still operating 

— Do you think… his passing would become a weak spot for the throne of Ignis in such a way? They are strong, you know how safe we lived there 

— I don't really know. I have never heard of The Royal Majesty Jungwoo of Ventum Angis taking politics and business to the battlefield. But to be fair, darling...— Said Jaehyun fixing his eyes on Johnny's— I have never heard anything about Jungwoo. If I'm not wrong he is young and lush... Twenty years old, he still has an empty book to fill with episodes… 

If Jaehyung had only known about the number of unspoken truths that could be brought to the table about prince Jungwoo, he would have trembled and thanked the Gods for taking him and his friends to Per Saxa while the chaos unraveled in the land he had called his home for the past five years. The fire city of Ignis, that jewel rising in the middle of the desert was where he had done most of his fortune to live with a breezy monetary status. 

Market was not a joke for the citizens of that nation, and it really permeated into the look of the commercial quarters full of flowers, silks and colors that more than once have invited him to get a bit too loose for his own health or even to pull a couple of girls into one of their abundant fountains for a brief love affair. 

Ignis was the oasis of the Xunpumhi dessert, both for the vegetation and water and the peace. They had been celebrating almost one hundred and six years of continuous peace, but it could be said that such peace was easily erased in a harsh movement when the front door of the throne room rumbled and opened with a loud thud, Sicheng storming in with the strength of a team of oxen. 

It was barely counting an hour since he left, running across the roofs of the nearby buildings in search for the traitor who injured Prince Hendery, but it looked like an entire life had passed over him without mercy and added to his appearance, weighing him down. 

Lucas, contrary to his former master, did believe in the Gods enough to consider the possibility of Sicheng dying and reincarnating into a furious version of himself when he saw him come across the room, a horizontal cut drawing a curtain of blood over his right cheek, his black curls covered in dust and his eyes hooded as if he was gathering energy to break a wall with a single kick. By his side, the tiny hopping of a red ponytail, despreocupate in a way that was shocking, considering that the owner of said red head was being served to the crown prince of the country and had his wrist tied to Sicheng's with a tight knot of rope. 

The young soldier loathed it, even touching his skin against Yuta made him drown in desperation but he gave up to practicality, since none of them could have shot an arc with a tied hand to the other. 

It was an agreement for their own benefit, however it came and whatever that included. 

— Kneel down— said Winwin with a tug from the rope when they stopped in front of the throne. Yuta gave him a quiet smirk that didn't need no sound to deliver the message of an inappropriate joke accurately. He had been thinking about that comment specifically to hit on the youngest's patience, and he knew perfectly. His eyes darkened even more— Kneel down and show some reverence for the royal highness, pretend the respect you don't have, with a bit of luck something would stick to you 

Yuta tugged harder and they both tumbled like towers connected by a bridge.

— You first, my sir, I give you the honor 

— Is not an honor to be under you 

— I assure you it could be 

— Do you think this is a funfair!?— Irrunped Xiaojun as he kept waiting for anyone to direct explanations to him— I'm not going to tolerate foolishness today, bow the hell down and shut up 

Sicheng went down to his knee, pulling so hard from the tied rope that he made Yuta finally fall on the carpet with an inelegant move that slightly hurt his already burning wrist, but it was worthy for Winwin, he just wanted to have even the slightest victory on him. 

— Majesty— started the young soldier, Xiaojun finally getting up from his seat and walking down the few steps that elevated it with the crown still on his head. Lucas insisted he should keep it while dictating the sentence, no matter if it was a ceremonial crown or if he theoretically wasn't a prince in functions yet. Honestly, he was in the dark about his reasons to give the prince such advice, he just felt like it was fairer that way. Maybe he still felt too vulnerable to let another prince reject the crown— As you ordered, I brought the man guilty of our beloved prince's slander 

— I walked here myself, soldier— whispered Yuta way too loud to have the intention of just pissing him off, but Sicheng ignored him deliberately and with fluency 

— He asked to be presented in front of you, carrying a royal message. As you can comprehend, majesty, my sympathy for him is non-existent… but since I am a gentleman and appreciate the effort on political relationships that your royal family works to keep, I did brought him to the higher authority

— Let me introduce myself— said Yuta standing straight again and making the royal guard follow in the way up due to the short length of the cord that was tying them both together. Sicheng breathed in, reminding himself he had to be calm, especially in front of Xiaojun and the court that was now only formed by Lucas and a couple more of soldiers— I am Na Yuta, royal guard and general of the Wind Army of Ventum Angis, honored to meet you. I’m under the orders of his excellency Kim Jungwoo, the crown prince.

The expression that extended gradually over Xiaojun’s face as the general Yuta kept giving all his address was a smoky mask deserving of the curiosity of the page, and that was what it got. Lucas fixed his attention on the change of the prince’s eyes and the slow muttering of Jungwoo’s name. He had almost forgotten that Xiaojun did know him actively, in the flesh, unlike many of the other presents.

—Jungwoo?— repeated the royal now loud and sure of his tone for his audience

—His highness Jungwoo, yes— almost corrected Yuta. Sicheng had to be giving him the reason that time because he knew his prince skipped the manners calling him by his name, only, but that won’t be going out from his lips in a hundred years— My prince is now sailing towards your nation, majesty, he has an estimated arrival in four days. His highness wants to discuss some major issues, and hopes for a trustable accord with you 

— You shot my brother— said Xiaojun, liberating the weight that was oppressing Lucas’ chest as they kept ignoring the elephant in the room— What makes you think that’s a considerate prelude to present your nation in front of me and ask for friendly talks 

— As a royal guard i am obligated to ensure the protection of my crown prince, this is a symbolic movement from my nation, asking for respect to our arrival, which the prince expects to be safe and peaceful— said Yuta calm as if he was explaining the most basic lesson of a botanical subject— And I received the message, majesty, that Ignis also requires respect, Sicheng replied accurately to the injury with the same wound, so let me say we are even now. We can call it a tie and pretend this didn't happen

—Are you comparing yourself to Prince Hendery?— furiously grunted Winwin to his ear, the sound barely making it through his clenched teeth 

— Yeah, naturally. A tie— ceded Xiaojun making both the soldier and the page snap a sharp and surprised look at their prince, who was giving the most believable smile he could offer to Yuta— Tell your royal excellency that next time i’d be glad if he could avail himself of written correspondence to deliver his messages, I would feel very pleased to read them. It also would be nicer, since I would save myself from this frights 

— Of course, I would tell him about your personal inclinations if you want to, majesty

—Now, what can I offer to the prince, general Na? 

— Well, as for the arrival of his highness and the matters that occupy him with you, I'm only a soldier, I lack the rest of the right to speak on his behalf. Thus, he would tell you himself. I only clear orders. 

—Thank you— said Xiaojun with a small gesture of his head that indicated that he had enough of the conversation— Sicheng, if you please, lead the general to the east wing and tell the maids to find him a provisional place to stay as Prince Jungwoo finishes his trip.

—Are you ser…?— he mumbled, then coughed, clearing his throat to speak to the prince— I may suggest that he stays in the cells, majesty, he is a potential threat and an offender of our kingdom. 

— Oh, don't be scared, my sir— kept murmuring Yuta— I won't hurt you, unless yo- 

He elbowed his stomach a tad too hard.

— I agree with General Dong— cooed Lucas, but it didn’t make it to sound in Xiaojun’s brain, whatsoever. The prince just waved his hand away. 

— Sicheng, please, just listen to me and go.

He slowly turned his face to Yuta, already imagining that he was going to be greeted with a smug smile and blue eyes meant to torment him as he was proved wrong. Nonetheless, it was only a serious look from a general waiting to be lead to his stupid and undeserving chamber. 

Lucas didn’t stay long enough to witness more of the apparent fight they had caught each other in, turning Winwin into pure spite; he was busy going after Xiaojun who rushed out of the throne room and started traversing along the halls that guided to his own room. 

The page felt the bubbling of words inside him and, this time, it was an apremiant sensation that didn’t make him fear the change from Ten to Xiaojun when the moment to reproach a prince came. He couldn't hold it in, his mouth didn't want to stay quiet in front of this, he was raised so faithful to that palace his heart pushed him to those acts.

— Majesty, you must be bantering— he started all indignant while he followed Xiaojun’s fast steps without problems due to his much longer strides— Your brother was shot, are you planning to let the issue flow? 

—Lucas, don’t pester me now, this is serious.

— That’s why!— he exploded— Your brother. Blood of your blood. He was shot! It's a direct attack! 

Xiaojun also came to hit a limit hidden inside him, deep down, and he stopped in the middle of the hall, his black party robe with embroidery making a wave of fabric fly as he turned on his heels swift like a thunderstrike to face the page and poke his chest with his finger, marking every word he said, overcharged by stress and personal offense. 

— Then tell me what your big idea is! 

— Not treating the enemy with royalties!? 

— Exceptional! Let's lock him down! Let's kill him! It would be great, yes, so when the entire float that is coming together with Jungwoo arrives they find just another reason to start a war with us! I know him! I do know him well! I know what he wants is this kingdom!— he took a breath, rubbed his temple for a moment and looked at Lucas trying to recover his diplomacy— Jungwoo is ambitious, he wants to be the best all the time and at everything, I know that he is going to come here and tell me a preposterous story about wanting Ignis, so please can you let me figure out a way to terminate this in a good and safe way? 

Finished the intense speech, the prince turned again to continue his last meters to the chamber where he could lie facedown and think in silence for the next four days that he had left until the blonde and fair prince of the west came swinging across his home. He could almost see him already, with golden accessories on his hair, fine veils and tight clothes of blue sateen and lace. 

But he was the only one who could picture him. 

Lucas hadn't had the pleasure to meet him before, and with it came the drawback of not being able to sound out the depth of the matter. He had heard little from him, his only imaginarium regarding his person was a gathering of the common things the population could have said about a prince and the legend of his fair beauty that stood shadowed by a more captivating person in his mind. 

In other words, stereotypes. 

And stereotypes are not a very good base to any argument, Lucas’ mind only filled with frustration at that rate of the month.

It was being a very busy October.

— Is this how you are starting your career as an official prince?— he said with a steady tone of disagreement and out of himself. He didn’t know how close he had drawn Xiaojun to the border. The prince looked at him with his hand on the handle of the door of his room, the crown of black spinels giving a shine of what he represented. Lucas felt the stare go through him, despite his beautiful face and the gentle curl of his lashes, the irises behind them had strength to put anyone down. 

— Yes. And please stop talking to me like you are still talking to Ten— he mandated caustically— I’m not here to be persuaded, we are not the same, never have been. It's him who gave up on this life and run away like a coward

— He what now, Xiaojun?

All of the crown prince's words have nailed Lucas to the floor, freezing him down without a single wobble of his body or a blink, his eyes getting lost somewhere uncertain. Thus, the question went in through one ear and passed out through the other when Hendery shot it, making his elder brother jolt with surprise finding him just a few meters away in the hall, with the robe a bit open letting the bandages of his shoulder be seen from behind and about to go inside the chamber that corresponded to him. 

A palace so big was, sometimes, surprisingly small to make the trinity of princes live without stumbling upon one another. 

That’s what happens when a neglecting king acts as the father of them all. 


	6. The ties of brotherhood

History is cyclic, they say, and it repeats itself time after time. Proof of it was the uncontrollable sensation of everything sinking for the eldest of the current Ignis princes. 

During his entire life, from the moment his mother explained to him why he was being taken to the upper floor of huge chambers, he tried to give all or nothing. Everyday he fought to be the deserving head of the monarchy, he had promised himself he would be the perfect son that makes a father feel proud and that never disappoints his nation, he wanted to wear the crown but he mostly wanted to be deserving of it.

Like if someone, some day, could have congratulated him, tell him that he was the best king of his dynasty, maybe even say "thank you for the effort". 

His celebration of pledging allegiance to the flag had started different than he imagined but, as the events passed, it became more and more terrible. The day he was waiting for only slipped away by some hours and suddenly, the event he had based all his life on, seemed too big for him, like if he was totally unprepared and every move he made was being evaluated for the worse results. 

— Hendery, let me explain this— he begged, pushing from his hand, softly, inside his chamber. If they were having this conversation, he wanted it to be between the two of them only and in a calm and comfortable place. 

The door clicked behind them but there was no time to accommodate his brother somewhere beyond the threshold before he started talking.

— For how long?— he blurted out, making the resentment sound in his voice like no one had been able to hear from the youngest prince until that moment of distension. At least he wasn’t yelling. Xiaojun quickly understood that he wasn’t mad, he was disappointed— Dejun, for how long have you known about it? 

— Not that long, just one d-

— And what were you waiting for to tell me!? It’s our brother, for fuck’s sake how you… how you even dare to name him like that? 

The crown prince has to lower his head and look at the carpet, not missing the repressed shake of Hendery’s voice, betraying him to show that under all of that, he just kept wanting to cry.

He wasn’t used to him cursing, either. 

—I know, but this… this situation is becoming very complex and I wanted to approach it with tact, I hope you can understand that. I cherish you, Hendery, I didn’t want to treat this issue in a rough way for you. 

Hendery brushed his fingers through his hair with a sigh and, for the benefit of his brother, he sat on the huge bed, leaning his cheek against one of the four poles that held the curtains above his head, wrapping him in a comfortable atmosphere of familiarity.

That was how their home looked like. 

Hendery had always been the most sensitive among them three, or maybe just the one allowed to be, so Xiaojun was not surprised to see how his eyes started watering. That didn’t mean it harmed his heart less when he saw him.

Xiaojun too, sat down on the bed, as close to him as his body allowed him to, and gently pulled from him until the youngest's face could lean on the crook of his shoulder. 

— I could have taken it.

—You could, I have no doubts about it. But you didn’t _have_ to— he said, caressing the black curls on the back of his head. He suddenly realized with discomfort that it was a tad too long since he last pampered him in that way. It made his heart start shattering. How careless of the feelings of people around him he had been? He didn’t deserve the patience he was being granted, nor the warmth of Hendery’s arms wrapping tighter around his waist when he gave him the slightest opportunity— How is your shoulder? Is it hurting badly? 

—No, it’s stitched now… and Yangyang has been taking care of me, too… he is a good page. 

— Great. Do you want something else? I can make you a turmeric drink if you want, so it doesn't hurt.

Hendery shook his head, still against his shoulder.

Xiaojun bit his lip, without moving. He still heard the small whimpers of his brother, combined with a couple of hiccups here and there. Nonetheless, Hendery stood up and looked at him with his red eyes and wet cheeks, but more composed than before. 

— Shall we stretch the preliminary talk or we can move to what we know we are going to discuss? 

— We can get down to brass tacks— Said Xiaojun despise the discomfort arising in his stomach and the lack of control over his hands, toying with the hem of his robe as he twisted the fabric between his digits— I can't overlook the fact that I… have said he is a coward, I'm not going to hide it from you because I want to be honest but, I'm going to need to call upon your sympathy. I'm watching myself a bit overwhelmed with all of this. The loss, father rushing me to take this whole protocol process, the arrow… and I can't stop thinking that, Gods, it takes some guts to do all of it and it feels so unfair that I'm the one who has to bite the bullet, every time. It sets me off. _He_ sets me off. Sometimes. 

— That's not new. He sets you off, you set _him_ off. You two clash day in and day out, but I thought you loved him anyways. 

—I do love him, Hendery— breathed the crown prince out, with sadness permeating into his speech— It's just that I can't comprehend his choice. 

— S-sure. And that… choice? What is it?

They looked at each other in silence. 

That was the moment to really start talking about it, Xiaojun could see it in his brother’s eyes and in the way his breath was more steady. 

It would take him a good effort to throw up all of the information, but it did not have any remedy. 

— Lucas… told me the other night about it. I had to reap it out from his lips, of course. You know that Lucas behaves like that when it's about _him_ — The youngest nodded, but the prince noticed how his whole body straightened on the bed to pay attention like an eager baby bird waiting for food. Xiaojun understood that, even though he wanted his brother to interrupt him in the difficult conversation, his mouth wouldn't open until he heard all of it— You see, as far as it is possible to assume… our brother found the excitement of _courtship_ on board of the _Storm's Lily._ You know Ten has always felt very enticed to the world beyond the palace, and that he hardly beared with all the… pomps and circumstances that our life implies, that he never really... tolerated it well. Hence, it seems like he felt like finally giving up the crown in favour of the delicateness of… well… of a lover. 

Hendery opened his mouth to speak but the hesitation was concurring his throat and nothing came out before he closed it again. If they weren't in a serious situation, that reaction would have triggered a guffaw from the eldest brother, amused with the tender and adorable pout of his brother, but there was none. No sound. 

— That's… that's… not what I expected. 

—Neither did I— conceded Xiaojun— What Lucas told me is that the vessel really sunk, that Ten really got lost on the ocean that night. He said it was a hard night, let's not omit that part, and that he tried to look for him but when he got a grip of his location, Ten… you know… Ten had made a decision about all of this. He doesn't think this is for him and thus, he has made his departure.

There was another moment of silence, fair to say that it was more valid this time. Hendery nodded slowly taking everything in. He knew his elder brother wasn't bluffing, he could read him well. That also meant that the glimpse of a light on his irises did not shine banal to him. 

— You don't approve it, do you?— Xiaojun shook his head slightly, disappointment slowly but violently entering in his heart, out of a sudden— But… at least… he is happy now, right? I know we are not supposed to but I don’t think it’s that bad, falling for someone is not bad. I would like to think that. And actually I would be thankful if you tried to help me believe in it, too, Dejun. He just… he just needed a little blow of air on his back to set a way out, you know that. 

— I think it's selfish. I think it's a cheap excuse to abandon us. To abandon everything. But don't you think I don't miss him.

The youngest prince gave a weak smile away. A breath filled his lungs before his lips could drop the thread of words that sliced the heart of his brother in two when they came, breathed out like a sigh. 

— So… I have a brother-in-law now?

— Yes. I-I guess we _both_ have it… 

—Yes, I guess that's how it is— giggled Hendery, in a low tone while he played with Xiaojun's rings on his fingers, turning them gently. Without looking up at him yet, he also murmured— I would have liked to meet him. 

—Right— said Xiaojun, to his surprise. But he couldn't show him how actually shook he was. It would be losing. Being too soft too soon. 

— But we can't tell anyone.

—Right— repeated the eldest, palm falling upon his brother's hands and giving a squeeze and a smile pressed on a line of his pink lips— We can't.

The contact made him feel the sparkle, almost making him withdraw his hand. It was becoming so hard, that day. 

He was tired of the whole network of royal movements, strategy and plotting; and the look of compassion in his brother was the last thing that, added to everything, was what he took as a queue to leave. Thought, not before pressing a tender peck on Xiaojun's forehead that swap the eldest off his feet, caught with the guards down. 

But he didn't complain, not a single bit. 

— Good night.

—Guangheng— he called. The reply was only a humming noise from the door— Do you want to stay over and sleep with me? Like when we were little? 

He shook his head and smiled.

— I don't want to bleed on your sheets, the stitches are tricky, you know?

— Of course…of course. Good night, then.

He closed the door behind him, with a sigh. 

That was something. And advanced, a step forward. It was enough for him for the moment. 

Gathering his strength, he looked up again, his energy a tad higher than before. But he knew he wasn't the only one awake around the palace, despising the late hour and the darkness outside.

The page had stormed across the halls like a soul out of hell, after Xiaojun disappeared into his room. He felt like he wasn't getting enough air and was about to choke inside the closed walls of the Grand Palace. He made the remaining steps towards an open space out of himself, and at last, it finally hit him.

The refreshing sense of freshness crushed against his face, greeting him with the sudden gift of a freed breathing. The night air was gently colder, if that was even possible in Ignis, especially after experiencing the unyielding wind of the Middle Sea on board messing his hair like a crazy celestial being. He filled his lungs avidly, welcoming all the smells of the plants within his nostrils. 

Ten had repeated it, like a prayer, through their years of friendship, but only now he could feel it properly. What it felt like. It was similar to a drowsy screepling sensation glued to his chest that barely calmed when he looked to the vast garden extending beyond him like a green mat. 

Lucas would have liked to tell him he was sorry _too_. 

The page had already given up to the world kept under lock inside him when he reached the railing and, holding on it to secure himself in a steady stand, he resumed, with no warning, the rolling of frustrated tears on his cheeks. 

— Shit!— he spat out to the world and the trees of the garden. He didn't expect or want anyone to listen to him, he just did it out of impulse, to relinquish himself of stress.

He wanted to be alone for a moment. 

The time slipped away from his conscience and passed by without him paying attention to the darkening of the sky. 

He was rather spaced out, thinking about the reason Ten could have painted on his brain when he named that specific balcony as his favorite one in the house. Lucas could tell, just looking from there and, for the first time noticing how magical it was the view from where he was standing. He could only see the extensive vegetation of the gardens and hear the pouring water of the stream in the distance. It almost seemed like it was a small forest kept between the walls. Like a small piece of an infinite world. 

He glanced over to the weeping willow, automatically unraveling the memory of a seventeen-year-old version of a certain boy climbing it with zero to no care about causing grazes on the expensive robes he was wearing. 

He was so caught up in his daydream that he didn't hear the youngest prince coming out from the hallway until he leaned over the handrail, too, and looked at him with half a smile. 

Seemed like they were paying tribute to the same person at a time. 

— Nights, Lucas.

—Majesty— he mumbled, embarrassed, his only impulse being wiping away his tears with the back of his sleeves, all in a negligible try of not looking as pathetic and helpless as he was feeling inside— What can I help you with?

—Worry not. Just having a break from the convulsion of this day.

— Uh… okay. 

In any other possible situation, Lucas would have differ and insist on helping the royal with any possible favour, but he was mentally exhausted for anything beyond turning to the garden again and losing himself in more elucubrations. 

Hendery's breath was steady by his side, if only. He too, liked that balcony the best; and more often than not, he had used it to sit under the shadow of his umbrella, next to Yangyang, while his brothers attended the sword lessons in the garden. He used to bet for one of them, according to what Yangyang had told Lucas over breakfast and between laughs some day, but the prince always had his bet on Sicheng the days he attended. 

Prince Hendery was faithful, but not stupid. 

His reputation for being the youngest preceded him inside the court, and many had him as a softie and a lame duck, but he was none of that. He was just pushed out of the chessboard in the presence of one insignificant month that separated him from his elder brother. 

Be that as it may, he was a very keen observer. Lucas knew. To a _certain_ degree. He was out of his competencies but the page was not so out of his. 

His voice again was near to giving him a heart attack from how out of the blue it was. A huge contrast with the softness of the words and the delicacy of volume. 

Those were shy words. Shy words from a prince. 

— Is he a good man? 

Lucas almost choked on it. If he had been drinking, which, in fact, he would have honestly appreciated, he would have definitely choked. 

— Who, majesty?— pretending that he had no idea of what the topic was about was, maybe, not the most elegant attitude that Lucas could adopt, but he had to give a try to escape that awkward conversation. 

— You know… the one that Ten fell for. 

_"There we go"_ he thought with a sigh and a sink of his head between his shoulders. Admitting it out loud once was enough to now have to repeat it but there was no way to go around the matter, especially in front of Hendery. 

— You know your brother would never choose a bad person to be his boyfriend. But if you are asking me for my own opinion… yes. He is a good man. 

Hendery nodded and Lucas really felt like the conversation will be over. He would have liked it to be over and that they could have ignored everything that was going on. Maybe even push his feelings down again like he had always done. 

— I am sorry— he murmured. And damn if that hit hard enough to make Lucas unable to pretend anymore. He made a hundred and one questions to himself in a second, starting from how long had Hendery known about _that_. When even him didn't know about it for sure, for quite a long time. 

He looked at him, his eyes wide to the point that they made Hendery chuckle under his breath, but with all, he also gave him a smile of compassion. Maybe he was not a softie, but he was definitely tender.

— Majesty, I don't know what you are… 

— I guess that's how it was meant to be— He interrupted— Life… is about making choices and how we make them. Ten had always told me that he wished that his life could be unique, exciting... I hope you don't blame it on him, it's just the way he has always settled his mind. Like… somehow, it was a foregone conclusion. 

Lucas nodded. He was so overwhelmed, suddenly, that he didn't have any verbal answer, he could just stare at him as his own expression decomposed. It felt like all of it was true but he was trapped in the silence and secret, until Hendery finally verbalized it and broke the wall of his restraints, making him finally open his mouth to empty himself of the repressed and taint state of his spirit. 

— You… would have to see, Hendery. You would have to see how he looked at him… 

— I honestly would like to see it. 

— I… want to forget about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaah~ that hidden moment of past LuTen is showing... if anyone is interested to know what happened between them you can let me know, since i have the drabble about it but i am very unsure if it should be posted or not...


	7. Delicate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay with updates, guys. I traveled to London to attend SuperM's concert and the trip has been a bit hard on me with the plane and stuff + seeing Ten live was a shock. But anyways, back to posting.

Things to record about Prince Jungwoo, note number one: He was a punctual man. 

The morning after Xiaojun's pledge allegiance to the flag, Lucas had entered his chamber, like every morning since he had been serving for royalty, and pulled the curtains open with energy. The burning sun of Ignis greeted the entire space of the room with direct rays, falling upon Xiaojun with an insistence that did not know distinctions between a farmer and the prince, still with his crown and robe on. 

The page did not bother to stop to interrogate the nature of his decision of sleeping with clothes, he had been taught, without sparing the rod, the day after, that Xiaojun wasn't there to take objection, and he sure wouldn't like to have his flaws and preparations signaled.

However, and fronting the bright invasion of light on his eyes, he snuggled on the pillow where he was squeezing his cheek against, and rubbed his eyes to open them little by little, adjusting his pupils to the new light. 

The page was, meanwhile, restless and keeping up with his tasks in an absolute silence. His talkativeness had run out the night before. He went to the bathroom and opened the faucet, then, as the water poured into the big bathtub, he let a steamy mug on his night table. The muffled sounds gathering in the morning of the royal chamber were enough, then, to make Xiaojun shift on the mattress and sit up, trying to put his crown off his tangled mass of curls, a small frown of pain as he pulled it out. 

— Good morning— he whispered to the page, who was opening a window to let the stance breathe.

— Good morning, majesty— he simply replied without further verbiage. 

Xiaojun pressed his lips on a thin line, but he understood the root of his quietness. Or so he thought. However, the prince stepped out of bed, awakening his prince behaviour for one day more. 

Maybe he failed a little in his first official event as the upcoming heir, but it was natural, no one can be perfect at the first try, so he was still motivated to be the king of Ignis as duty required him to be. 

The red of Ignis would be a good graveclothe. 

To this thought, he opened his dressroom and went across his clothes trying to pick up a suitable outfit, then he cleared his throat. 

— Lucas, listen here for a moment.

— Yes, majesty? 

— I have been doing some thinking, tonight, about how to extend my hand in a polite way to Prince Jungwoo. My coronation has to be tomorrow morning, but I thought that my biggest gesture of welcome at the time we are living, is to delay this three days more to give Prince Jungwoo a seat. I’m going to discuss this properly with my father and expound on the advantages of my strategy, of course, but could you, please, turn to the maids and pages and tell them they should be arranging a bigger service. Tell them they can let all what they did for me like it is, but they have two additional days to set up things that would please Jungwoo, please. 

— Yes, majesty— nodded Lucas, taking all the information he was given. 

At first sight, it didn’t sound like a bad decision, though it felt strange and nostalgic to him, seeing that the coronation was a real thing that was finally happening and about to put an end to the prolonged dramatism formed inside the court that separated everyone in sides due to their constant debate. If they brooched that coronation with a loud cheer and the legit Crown Prince managed to ease the vicious ambitions of the western prince, Ignis would breath peace for years ahead. And Lucas was sincerely predisposed to make that happen. 

After all, Ten was his past and he couldn't change it. Hendery verbalized it on the balcony some hours ago, when Lucas gave up and sobbed like a child. 

_ “That it weighs upon you doesn’t mean that you can’t accept it. I miss him, but at the same time, the Gods know I would have encouraged him to do it if I was ever asked”  _ it’s what he had told him, and coming from the one sibling that got down the most, Lucas couldn’t help but notice that they had been through similar phases and that he himself had been too mordant with the whole situation.

— Thank you, Lucas. Keep me informed if there’s something to solve. 

— Is there something that you specifically want me to ask for, majesty? For the royal Highness Jungwoo.

— Well— he said making a pause on his inspection of the wardrobe to think— Tell them to bake blue meringue kisses. 

Lucas actually raised his eyebrows to the words that left Xiaojun’s lips, who shrugged with a smile knowing the answer could sound banal. He had never guessed that would be the answer, especially if he had been hearing for a couple of days that Jungwoo was a person to be careful of, always on the fast track. That he was particularly thrilled about meringue kisses didn’t make it to the mental image that Lucas had been constructing, more likeable to ask for non stopping amounts of liquor, a table to play cards with money bets or even a quirky fetish for presents. 

Nonetheless, he nodded with a smile to the prince. 

— Understood. Anything else, to clear it as soon as required, majesty? 

— Tell everyone,  _ everyone _ , not to try seducing him. Bites back. 

Lucas nodded firmly, once more before leaving, not taking much time to weigh what that last guideline meant at all. He supposed, it was targeted to avoid an inconvenient clash between nosy courtesans trying to make their way inside his briefs and a prince with a dangerously predisposition to be a touch-and-go. 

However, Jungwoo was, to start with, a punctual man. 

He was there at the expected time that General Yuta had communicated. 

He was there in the morning of the fourth day, just in perfect time to spend the morning with a reception and to attend the coronation that the king accepted gladly to postpone in such terms, at noon, if he had desired it. 

Xiaojun had, making no mistake, expected him. He was at the front stairs of the palace wrapped in a eye-catchingly beautiful gown, waiting for his horse to make the way between the port and the Grand Palace. By his side, his brother. And ahead of both of them, the city was covered in excitement of holding such big honors on the same day as it was a coronation and the visit of another royal house. Xiaojun was glad to see that the citizens had conveniently decided to go with the royal family’s efforts of being educated, pulling out a big party of flowers and beautiful cheering from the foreigner prince. 

They were not alone. Their father, the king, also took a moment to attend the arrival. As well, General Na Yuta, who was walking towards the gates to help his master dismount; General Dong Sicheng and the first legion of soldiers, surrounding the scene for security, a thing that he completed with a sarcastic nuisance plastered on his expression, in consequence of the fact that he had already attempted to fulfill such role of granting security and had been irrevocably ignored and lessened. Proof of it was the stupid general Na walking back and forth across the east wing of the palace day and night and with the only pastime of annoying him, but that was another story. Then, a selection of maids and pages to take his luggage; Yangyang, and last but not least, Lucas. 

The suitable expression to describe the state of the page, when the almost invisible cloud of dust elevated in the air around Jungwoo’s feet hitting the tiles of the front entrance when he got off his horse, would be “nonplussed”. 

He was blonde. Not like a bleached kind of blonde but locks of hair that mimicked the color of golden fields of cereal greeting someone in the pure morning. Those locks were falling with freedom over the pale surface of a flawless countenance. His lips were too well defined to not be an envy of painting models, pink, but not stridently bright, just enough, like a blooming cherry blossoms. 

He was  _ delicate _ . 

Even the dress was not past the subtle tonality of whites and blues, only with one rogish detail, made by the blue velvet strip wrapping around his neck with a small bow and taking the attention to the open square collar trimmed with tulle. 

He let his royal guard take his hand and guide him in front of the presence of the royal family, his walkthrough becoming an indiscreet and sugar-coated inspection of the presents who gathered to see his arrival, in which he didn’t miss the opportunity to shoot a veiled smirk of amusement to Sicheng when he passed in front of him. Because delicate might not mean naive, all at once. 

— My lord, let me offer the introductions— said Yuta to his master with a clear voice that went through the entire courtyard and put everyone on guard for the real action of that morning event, surrounded now by the citizens that approached the closed fence of the palace as soon as the diversion moved from the galleons entering the port to the royal residence, to peep inside— This, is the head of the Royal Family of Ignis, current monarch and king of the region.

— It’s an honor— he said immediately with a subtle tone, lowering his head and the squatting of his body to offer an elegant reverence sustained by Yuta’s hold. The King nodded in response, content with the respect and so Yuta kept going across the court.

— At the left, his majesty, the royal infante of Ignis, Hendery. 

—Pleased to meet you, my lord.

The greeting was, this time, laced with a smile that made Sicheng have a mental meltdown and finally snort under his breath with the scathing annoyance of his attitude. The sound was low, but he still owned a penetrating glance performed by the General Na, incriminating him for his impolite act. Sicheng just rolled his eyes away. With Jungwoo, the spite was just some minutes old as he just walked in their territories but, towards Yuta, it had the mark of several days under his caustic relationship of clashes. 

The week had been calm, indeed, it has been the calmest of the weeks since Lucas’ arrival to Ignis. The king accepted the reasoning of his son with a proud bragging of the occurrence in front of the council, in which everyone approved the postposition of the coronation for some days in order to make the relations fluent, and there was even excitement for what seemed to be, by far, one of the biggest events held in the palace for a very long time. The ghost of Ten’s death disipated with the stir, as the king had predicted, only leaving space to the rather calm tasks of the palace’s employees and residents.

Xiaojun dedicated himself to study and prepare every inch of his big day. Hendery spent a big part of his days reclined upon his favorite chaise while the local shoppers presented him the entire collection of ideas they had transformed into designs of clothes for him to wear, from robes, to shirts and pants, hairpins, shoes... everything. The maids started decorating the salon with huge tables, amazing decorations, flower arrangements, exquisite dinner services and so on. As well, chefs and scullions prepared a variety of dishes and desserts, putting a special eye on those baby blue colored pastries that were specially requested. 

Everything was moving, in an apparent calm way, but moving. And everyone had found something to do, but not Yuta or Sicheng. 

They were invited to the party, without a doubt, but their participation in the planning was null, which unwinded on days of torturing each other in silence, both of them using only the dark severeness of their eyes nailing in the other like the sharpest of their swords and the fastest of their arrows, for that they did not share a single word. 

Sicheng had started thinking that he was seeing Yuta more than he was seeing his own troops. And the pleasure of it was, by a long way, far less. Only the voice of Hendery grabbed him and pulled the soldier out of his mental check of the latest events. 

— The pleasure is mine, Prince Jungwoo— he had said, with a smile that, faked or not, seemed warm— Be welcome in our land, I more than hope you find everything the right fit for you.

He gave a nod, propelling Yuta to move on to the next presentation. 

— And, as you already know, my majesty, Prince Xiaojun of Ignis.

The smile on Jungwoo’s face grew, for some reason or another, and under the curious gaze of court, bystanders and a very dazed Lucas, Jungwoo finally let go of Yuta’s gentle hand and climbed the stairs towards the local prince by himself, stopping in front of Xiaojun, taking the prince’s hands on his and giving him a correct reverence and a squeeze. 

— Xiaojun, my dear friend— he said, voice soft. If he hadn’t put all of Ignis’ population in his pocket by the moment, the surely surrendered to his charm then— It’s so lovely to meet with you again.

— Welcome to Ignis, my sir, I hope we can find a pleasant stay, there’s nothing I would like more.

— I am sure. And, oh, I have to say I greatly lament with my entire heart the news about your eldest brother.

— It is fine, my sir, sadly, this kind of disgrace can happen any time, and we are helpless fronting them— Xiaojun said, in a sublime performance of feelings that were not there, in view of the true location of his now nonexistent brother. It was his first time addressing the matter in front of the city so he did his best to give a comforting speech out of the blunt— The only thing to do is remember him and take upon our duties, don’t we? 

— Indubitably— conceded Jungwoo— In such circumstances, surrendering is not a solution, that’s why I decided to pay a visit and talk with you, personally. I’m sure we can determine some issues.

— Of course, I’ll take your concerns gladly. But before any of that, my sir— said Xiaojun veering to the start of his plan— Let me announce to you that this exact evening, my official coronation is taking place, and nothing would please me more than offering an invitation to you. I hope you can attend, if that’s not too bold of me. 

— How could I miss that?— exclaimed Jungwoo, getting, as an answer, an entire variety of endeared eyes from the citizens— I'll be there, my sir, you don't need no doubts.

— Perfect. Now let my page Lucas guide you to your room, would you? He would carry your luggage for you.

The eyes of Jungwoo traveled from the prince to the tall boy standing behind him, finally paying attention to him and making his breath hitch for a split second and without a reason. Their gazes just brushed against each other for a moment. Jungwoo had the eyes of a fawn, big and shiny, like full of stars. The length of his lashes didn't help the effect, for it framed them with a perfect finish.

— I have my own page with me. Renjun— he called making gestures to a small boy, who was walking his way to the stairs with an umbrella ready to protect his master from the aggressive sun of the desert wounding his skin, but anyhow, the royal hand of the western prince, fell upon Lucas' arm, awakening cold spots in his hot skin wherever the metal rings around his fingers could kiss it. When he turned his face to him, he was close enough for the page to distinguish the brown mark of eyeliner over his eyelashes and the shade of peach and champagne colors on his lids— But, if you would be kind enough, you can show me the way to my room.

Lucas nodded, and with that, a headache expanded inside Sicheng's head.

Jungwoo was attending. It was clear in the way he started his way inside the palace and towards his infinitely adjusted chamber full of new jewels and dresses, side to side with Lucas and Renjun. And although that should have made him clap his hands and smile for his ruler had got him in the path of a peaceful accord, his shoulders sunk just by the flash thought of how that meant that Yuta was staying for long and crushing into a party where he had to be attentive.

And so he did. 

It was still early when he saw him appearing from who-knows-where and his last trace of hope vanished. There were thousands of people, royals and nobles, mixing across the grand salon, the music was sounding lively and the laughs were being shared between all of their drunken and exhilarated conversations that didn't mind no expenses, since the liquor price was on the king. And with all of that, with the elevated number of guests and the infinite possibilities of mixing them as they waited for the highest royalty to arrive and join the celebrations, the general Na managed to find him and started approaching him with strides charged in confidence.

He looked uniquely strange wearing a set of lighter clothes, typical of the desert but giving a counterpoint to his pale face that was now framed for the red sheer of his long and straight hair falling without restraints, only tucked away behind one ear, helped by a hairpin with little crystals. The blueish color of Ventum Angis went away and gave room to a robe of brighter peach color, but Sicheng still rolled his eyes to the shabbiness of his appearance. He managed to look like that even wearing court attire, probably because the robe was too open when it parted under the sash of his, incidentally, really thin waist. 

The General leaned on the column by Sicheng's side, as if the thing was not with him, and took a long ship from the cup he was holding, full of red liquor, judging by the smell going out from it. 

— Sicheng— He greeted in a tone that was almost gentle.

— Son of a bitch— Greeted Sicheng back, mimicking his tone and looking away immediately after. Lucas had expressly told him that the crown prince trusted his efforts to be polite but it was superior to his strength. It… it was just out of his control. 

— Oh c’mon. I know you can talk nicer, I heard you do it these days before. 

— Not to you, whatsoever.

He tried to ignore him the hardest he could, but his gaze was burning and the caress of his breath fanned on his face when he sighed, insistently refusing to let him alone. He closed his eyes and breathed in, for the umpteenth time in his presence, not wanting to grant him the pleasure of turning to him and yell at the top of his lungs that he hated him.

He was superior than that and wasn’t willing to fall for his miserable tricks.

— Oh yeah? Is that so? So what up with you?— he continued— Have you always been like this? I mean, like if you had a stick permanently shoved up your arse.

— What's up with me? You are a horrible criminal that offended my nation in a national holiday, shooting a member of the royal family in front of the whole city. Do you want me to smile brightly at you after all of that?

— Well, honestly, yes— laughed the General, Sicheng sure to the core that his favorite pastime was to use his stupid and fake compliments to drive him up the wall— And if you see it from other perspective, I didn't shot you. And you shot  _ me. _ So I should be angrier at you than the other way around.

Sicheng glimpsed at him, his eyes falling down to his chest, where he had targeted him some days ago. Same as Hendery, he had a bandage showing under the peach material of his robe, but contrary to the prince's case, some red stains of blood were still putting a decoration against it and his pale smooth skin. 

Had he shot that hard? He had to tear his glance away from it and look at him in the eyes, for the better. 

— It's my job.

—It was my job to shoot his majesty Prince Hendery.

— Tsk — he groaned, with nothing else to say, as he started walking away, telling himself that no matter how he wasn’t the best at socializing with the court, any other location in the salon would be better than to be near him. He was not there to discuss his stupid arguments— Don't play with me, Yuta. 

— Oh, I wish…— he heard him behind his back, inciting him to hurry up his steps.

He wondered where his habit of molesting him with those kind of issues came from. And he even wondered why they actually hit the target every time. Probably he was doing it more often because of the way it worked him up, but Sicheng really, truly, specifically, couldn't help it. 

His bedroom intrigues were not nonexistent, of course, but they definitely didn't happen so often. He was a busy man, a soldier. A  _ general _ . Time extended long for a military between one affair and the other but that was not a reason enough for Sicheng to feel himself boil in anger whenever Yuta joked about such things, almost as if he could ever meant it or know about his intimacy. 

_ Never _ . Not even over his dead body. 


	8. White gloves

Lucas was having a good bite of a raspberry bun when Sicheng came across the table he was standing by. He had a frown so deep that it almost made him look comical, like if he could exude little clouds of steam from his infuriated brain. However, he looked better than anytime before, since the coronation ceremony was worth the effort. 

A coronation was one of the most important kinds of celebrations that can occur to a royal house, since it means the continuation of a dynasty in the throne, a legit recognition of the power of a future monarch and the reaction of the people towards them. It also added prestige that they happened not so often, so everyone was especially excited. Or stressed, depending on the side you stood at. 

Ignis was taking the day very seriously, and so Sicheng was adequate to attend the gala with his sbelt body prettily accentuated by a simple but elegant black tunic of satin. That night, he appeared slick, with his black hair down, smoothly brushed, and the timid shine of a thin gold covered chain with filigrees on the back of his hair. It was a change from his rather ascetic facade when he was wearing the soldier uniform. Suddenly he looked like he could be just another noble of the court. 

He took a slice of bread from one of the million plates that were laying around with all imaginable types of food and dishes, and started spreading butter on it with a distinctive violence that was, actually, not so common in him, being a soldier or not. 

— You look irritated— commented Lucas with a chuckle. It was not an unusual thing to be in that state for the night, the last two days of preparations had been hasty, adapting to the new situation and trying to get in shape for every demand of the prince— Stressed? 

— I won't say I'm stressed. I'm just…— he looked ahead, somewhere Lucas could not define between the infinite guests populating the room, over the arcade that surrounded the grand salon of the palace. Sicheng let the air out of his lungs with a sigh, his shoulders sinking slightly, for he knew Lucas was right on his observations. And that was a blow. Because he had always liked to be more of a closed book, in that sense, harder to read, not just letting everyone see through him, dominate what his mind was ruminating. Especially in that determinate case— General Na really just, and excuse the language, bust my balls.

— Really?— Said Lucas with a lick of his lips, collecting the marmalade that dripped from the bun, distracted. He was also wearing an especially elegant set of clothing, and he didn't want to ruin the clean white collar with marmalade stains before the royals could even arrive at the ceremony. After all he had been designed to make Jungwoo's stance comfortable and Xiaojun really told him to do merits with the task, he had to look _decent_ — How can someone that shot our royal infante on the shoulder be annoying?

— Right!?— almost yelled the soldier, giving up in the preparation of his steak toast and just biting it while it looked like it would crunch down anytime soon— He messes with me. When I think hard about it I would have shot Jungwoo's shoulder if our prince ordered it, don't I? I have scored bullseye hundreds of times.

— But… but Xiaojun would never order that.

— Yes, I know. But it's not my decision. It's the prince's. 

Lucas arched an eyebrow.

— You are defending him?

— No, Gods, no! Shut up!— Said Sicheng visibly angry with the mere suggestion of him accepting what Yuta did. Lucas yelped surprised about the force of the negative— This is what pisses me off! He is getting inside my brain! Listen, I don't even want to associate with him, I don't want to see him… so if you want to hang out with me tonight, I would appreciate having someone around, I don't want to put up a scene on this important day.

The way in which Sicheng friendly elbowed Lucas and giggled was beyond charming. 

He was a lovable person, despite how cold he could seem at first sight. Lucas had known him for years of working in the palace, of course. The page was athletic enough to be a challenge while sparring, the friendly matches with swords making a good entertainment, and being nearly the same age, time had done its thing. Nonetheless, he had to crook his expression and shake his head for him.

— I can't, Winwin. Prince Xiaojun has insisted to all of the pages and nurses that we treat Jungwoo as if he is between cottons. I'm officially obliged to tend a gentle hand for him all night, and I am also the page of the prince who is taking the crown… I'm a bit overwhelmed with work tonight. You should look for Yangyang instead.

— Yangyang?— He kind of puffed, funny, with his name, inconveniences coming one after the other— He is always with Hendery, they are like two peas in a pod, I don't know who is the servant and who the prince.

Lucas laughed softly at that. It was true that Hendery was too caring with his page. Either because he was the youngest of them all or because the prince really has a nurturing personality, he had put a lot of privileges on him. Not in the forbidden way that Lucas had once crossed bordering fatality, the page could never see them having a "gracious slip" under the aromatic waters of a bathtub, that was scandalous even just thinking about it for a second. But they were definitely close friends. 

— Just try, the kid is really a fun companion that would give you extended conversation. He dances the courant well, too, give him a try— joked Lucas, getting a sarcastic expression from the soldier that made both of them laugh— Hendery is going to be busy tonight greeting a tone of repellent nobles and spirited girls pretending his hand, anyways.

— Oh, is the "let's win over the youngest prince so we can put full hands on the money" kind of night?— kept joking Sicheng, mocking the section of bourgeoisie that came to the palace for that, and far more relaxed now that he forgot about his demeanours and showdowns with General Na and even taking a glass full of white wine from the table to sip from it. 

Those events were not that boring when he was a guest and not a guard on duty. There was always good food, good wine, good music and a lot of people to share an animated moment. Sometimes, being a high-range, thing that Sicheng could more or less brag about, made the official events lose importance and be more focused on the legit party put around them. Anyone could call it pretentious, but Sicheng was going to down that glass with a light heart, anyhow.

— Seems like it is— Laughed Lucas. He was having a cheerful little while, too. 

He was feeling despreocupate for the first time in so long and sincerely smiling with all the length of his wide smile. He too, took a sip of wine because he could use the chance to enjoy the small things of life and get a subtle tone of red across his cheeks. And then, as if it was meant to happen in that way, he turned his face to the side, still laughing and trying to keep his hair out of his eyes. 

He had to compose in the bat of a butterfly's wing, straightening his pose and brushing his flower patterned pants clean, just so when Prince Jungwoo made the way down the remaining steps of the extense stairs, he looked like someone reliable, just as Xiaojun asked a million times and saying please. 

He didn't fit the description that citizens used for him. 

There were very few notions of Jungwoo, but tongues spoke that he was very fair and beautiful, which was a huge mistake of poetry.

What Jungwoo was, could be defined as _exquisite_.

He had a white cotton gown on, floor length, and expensive enough to be flowing behind him as he graciously walked down the red velvet covered stairs. It was off-shoulder, but a delicate white robe, with the typical fashion cut of Ignis, verging on a translucent epiphany, covered all of the set, with subtle strokes of silver snow lotus lined- no, embroidered- over it. His hair was golden, soft, pushed back slightly in a sort of languid curl with the most rebellious locks hanging, as they managed to escape the neat styling towards the crown of silver and crystals that reminded Lucas to a frozen branch of a bramble. 

And he had never seen ice. 

He was so tactile. Everything that Prince Jungwoo had around his person, sparked, from the attire to the thin silver cord that composed his long earrings, but the most shocking thing of them all is that the full display of insane adornment couldn't outshine him. 

He wasn't dull, nor bland. He had personality enough to carry all those things without throwing shadow over his own existence. And it was because of a simple thing to understand. Jungwoo was a very soft evocative with his appearance, but his sense wasn't weak. He couldn't bend easily. He was the man that docked with five galleons at the ports, put everyone in a turmoil in less than a couple of days for the mere happening of his arrival, and could ignite a war with a flick of his fingers. 

It was easy to forget hearing his voice that was very fine and melodious. 

Everyone had turned their faces at him. Everyone was looking at the fluent prince of Ventum Anguis fluttering across the ballroom. Some were just very curious and eager to see how the polemic prince looked on the flesh, but what kept them all hooked on him was the soft caress of white fabric like a dreamworld. 

— I'm afraid I have to go, before his highness from the West ends as surrounded by predators as prince Hendery— Said Lucas with a grin as he made a small gesture to the side, where Sicheng could turn to see the mentioned prince, wearing a specially fancy green suit and nodding politely to Gods-knows-which noble chit-chatting about some unimportant anecdote.

He mixed with the guests, making his way towards him and leaving Sicheng behind as he munched on his toast and thought about what could he do for entertainment in the night. 

Lucas was not so sure of how to go up to him, he was from a whole different culture with different customs and protocols, the further Lucas had interacted with a wind person was… Taeyong. 

And things didn't go so well. 

That wild thought made Lucas breath somehow uneasy, with a small quiver out of a sudden. He wondered if the couturier and Prince Jungwoo would be similar. But as he over thought about this matter, unaware of the ironic taste of the silent situation, prince Jungwoo seemed to be much more carefree of their cultural distances. As expected, he was just a royal, fed with a silver spoon since birth, and had a total of zero reluctance approaching whoever he wanted, since he will always end above them in the scale and the fault of an offense would never weigh on his shoulders. 

— Lord Lucas— he greeted with a smile, hooking one of his hands, flaunting white lace gloves, around him and giving him a weak touch with his closed fan on the shoulder to show him his gratitude before he snapped it open to sneak behind it as he spoke with polite praises— It's a luxury to find you here tonight

—I am on duty, majesty— He said trying to be convenient and, mainly, trying in the most professional way not to give importance to the fact that Jungwoo had wrapped his hand around his arm, not very accordingly to his own traditions— If there's anything your highness needs, I'll be glad to help. That's my job. 

—Indeed, I would like to request something from you. I cannot stick to Lord Xiaojun at this moment, for he is devoted to his responsibilities with the kingdom. May you take his place accompanying me to my seat?— He worded it as a polite suggestion, but Lucas was experienced enough to know that he was totally off the chance of declining the desire of a prince, so he just chuckled and nodded— The clocks have moved towards the definitive hour, we should be looking for a chair at the first row so we can see everything well, don't we? 

— Majesty, I am very sure that my master had specially reserved a seat in the first row for you, naturally

—Oh, of course, Xiaojun never leaves loose ends— he said self-complacent with a smile. He really had the most academic shape of lips and, seen from that angle, his eyes had a delicate coat of shimmery pearl and peach shadow. He was looking around the place but Lucas had a loose grip of the surroundings, his attention getting shamefully caught by Jungwoo's curious ways. The page was trying to be measured, avoiding any possible clumsiness around him. Jungwoo was almost as tall as him, but he looked smaller and more tidy, so moving enthusiastically was out of the table, for it seemed he could knock him off his feet if his gestures became heavy. He had been all his life around princes, going to class with them, taking care of them and being their vassal, and for the first time, by the side of Jungwoo, he felt small. Like if he was the one who needed to be told the way— I have to say this salon looks superb. The floor tiles are beautiful, what stone are they made of?

— I'm no expert, majesty, but I heard once that it's black ceramic marble 

— It's beautiful, whatsoever. I would like to dance on it, maybe there's a chance later

— I am sure there would be, this is a celebration, in any case 

— Are you used to dance in this court? I heard the rumors that prince Ten _was_ a very gifted dancer

— He was— said Lucas with a single and firm nod as he conducted Jungwoo to the place that chairs have been aligned to assist the grand event of the night and where the most selected guests were placing themselves, nearer or further from the pedestal, according to their status— Dancing with him was the delight of many, for what I understand 

—What about you, Lord Lucas?— He asked, airly— Are you a good dancer? 

—Me, majesty?— He said with a badly dissimulated chuckle that, he hoped, covered his nerves better than it sounded for him— I usually limit to not flaunt my artistic talents, in case I offend anyone with this much grace of mine 

For his luck, Jungwoo enjoyed the joke, snapping the fan closed again to give him a clear laugh. Lucas had to suppress his impulse of accompanying the prince, because his laugh was messy. Unlike everything he had to him, the sound of his cackle was unceremonious. It was just a laugh. 

Mundane.

To the extent that Renjun raised his eyebrows to the manners of the scene, giving a doubtful glance at Lucas, as he joined their walk in order to fulfill his task of accommodating the prince on his seat.

— Majesty, I found your seat, do you want me to walk you over? 

— Ah, Renjun, breathe easy— he said, freeing Lucas' arm to get a hold on his own page. Then he looked at his tall companion— Lucas is gently showing me my way, he knows around this palace better. You can wait for me under the arcs

— As you say, majesty— said Renjun gently bowing and going away to take place over the zone reserved for… well, for their poor vassal status.

Lucas was paying attention to how small Renjun was and trying to decipher his age, as he looked young but also very polite and mature; when the edge of Jungwoo's tunic was caught on a chair. 

— Oh, whoops— said Lucas in a natural way before he could resist it, gently unhooking the trapped material without ruining the beautiful tunic of the prince. He looked at Lucas, bent close to the floor, with a tender grin and he suddenly felt a bit weightless, with the brush of their eyes again— There you go

— Thank you. I will go to seat over there and put a smile through this sermon, it's been a pleasure, Lord Lucas 

—Of course— he said laughing softly at the comeback of his joke from Jungwoo— I'm hoping the prince has a tasteful time

— I'll surely have. And, Lucas— called the royal— One more thing, before you go

— Yes, majesty?

— Can you give me a kiss?

He put on a lovely grin, his face lighting up in front of the eyes of the page that were flashing an infinity of strangled sensations. That was a bold statement that made his lips feel tingly and fresh. It made him nervous, it made him everything that he had never been for a split of a second before he could open his mouth with a breath to speak. 

— A what?— He mumbled so low that he doubted anyone heard it at all. Jungwoo put a hand up and waved it, gesturing towards a waiter holding a tray where he carried a dozen small blue pastries with the sweetest taste and the warmest tone that Lucas' cheeks had ever acquired. He slapped himself mentally for how stupid he was. 

— Meringue kiss. I love those! 

— Sure, I'll bring you a few on a plate. Knife and fork, majesty?

— No, thank you, I like them straight on my lips 

Lucas hummed a rushed affirmative. 

He had only one job.


	9. You are me, I am you

The music had finally quieted and the gasps and comments of the guests came in a cloud of low murmurs, preceding the splendid walk out of prince Xiaojun of Ignis, the most expected person of the night. 

He himself was the main attraction of it, from how he looked and acted to the sound of his firm acceptance of the crown. 

He was thought-looking, always, aware of the gravity of the things he was about to be perjuring, but at the same time, he was so exquisitely dressed for the ceremony that it even seemed out of place, like an elevated goal of people's fantasies. The airy appearance, like a very light piece of gold filigree, had been more likely of the elder brother and his undying taste for an artistic life that manifested straight onto his clothes, but he had not been the only one to deck people with a single stare. 

Hendery looked at him coming through the salon towards him and their father, his face reflecting the surprise of his elaborate look. A gown of square collar and golden thread all over it shone vividly against his light skin and his brown hair, still without adornations, in order to have room for the official crown.

It hit him, suddenly, what they were fronting. 

His brother was there, about to take the royal title, becoming the prince of an entire nation and the heir of the throne whenever their father; the man who had been mostly relegating their growth to nurses, maids and pages; passed away. He was going to be a great prince and an even greater monarch, Hendery knew it by the way the western prince was on the first row of chairs, swinging his fan gently, seating graceful by Renjun's side and without disrupting the official schedule of their dynasty. 

Xiaojun always knew what to do or, if not, he pretended it very well.

His eyes felt stingy, out of the blunt, getting too emotional to keep himself from wrapping his arms around his brother as soon as he was close enough. It wasn't on the plan, nor in the protocol, but he needed at least one second before the rest of his life, where his brother would become the highest rated personality of the court. 

— Hendery, this is not the moment— said Xiaojun lowly on his ear, a bit awkward of being in front of everyone looking like that, but he still took his time to play with the strands of hair that were free from his brother’s small crown

— I love you.

— Ah...— he giggled nervously, pretty conscious of how all the court was looking at them at that moment, pushing him back a little so he could look at his eyes and fix the situation— Me too.

— You have the virtues in you, use them well, brother— he said to him. Lucas, Yangyang and Sicheng observed the two of them with a smile. It wasn't the most righteous way of executing what the teachers called "blessing giving to the uprising family", but it would have to be made that way. With all, the court was babbling about what they considered and endearing image, attributing it to the pure and gullible nature of the youngest brother who kept giving him an array of words, far enough from the seating places to still be intimate between them— Now you are the one inheriting the title, and my heart really… swells. I am going to miss the way we were before, because I know everything is going to change from today on.

Xiaojun lowered his head a bit, but not so far towards the floor as he tended to do. 

—Someone has to do it. 

—I know— he said, now making his voice clearer so the entire salon could participate in a better reenactment of what a blessing before a coronation should be. As if nobles would ever be content without real words to transmit to their circles next morning, making themselves the protagonist. Having nobles happy had a good part of keeping everything in peace. That's why Hendery's jacket had an off-borders style cut that closed his collar all the way up, concealing in the best way possible the fact that he was shot. Like if nothing ever could scrape the well polished defences of their kingdom— I am so very proud of you, brother. My entire trust shall fall on you today onwards, for you to lead this nation kindly, with a steady hand and… and keeping it's integrity.

Xiaojun looked at him, a smile adhering to his lips as he heard Hendery adjusting to what an official and squared speech for this event should sound like. The kind of speech you write beforehand in your room, with a teacher insisting on the points you should focus on, almost obliging you to be convenient with the reign. Hendery was a blend between the other two brothers, easily drifted away from academic requirements but not all the way to loathe the legacy given to him on his DNA. Invested into pouring his feelings out with a correct gesture but afraid enough that rigid rules were hiding something insincere for him. 

— That's what a good prince should mind, and what you can trust me for. Maybe...— his eyes fluttered to look at the front rows of chairs and then back to his brother, swiftly— Maybe it takes some risks, but with a hand on my heart I can say I'll make the decisions that put us in the best shape.

The youngest prince smiled and nodded. 

He knew it was time to let go, but it was hard to retire his hands clenching on the fabric of Xiaojun's sleeve. 

He was uneasy as he watched him retire and move towards the center of the altar, Hendery moving to his bench to kneel there for the rest of the preach. They had invited priests to the ceremony, infusing it with religious presence. Now that they were present in Ignis thanks to the Per Saxa's mission- which was indeed, not the mission remembered as easy-, one of their intentions were to facilitate their blend with the current culture. 

They started a somewhat long ritual to make his brother suitable to Gods and their blessings, with water being poured on his hands again and petals of flowers upon him. 

The coronation rituals were, of course, long and many, but the crowd assisted them with excitement and smiles. The conversations would be about it the whole month, so better put attention on then if you wanted to participate in society. About how Hendery was sweet. Or how Xiaojun was explendid looking, how he appeared like a young and suitable monarch or how lucky would be the person that could manage to slide a ring on his finger. 

It was the moment.  _ His _ moment.

When he got to the front and got down on one knee, even Sicheng's heart clenched. The boy he had trained with for extended years of their youth, and that was accurate answering all the questions of political lessons and humanities, had come a long way. He was finally up there like he had promised everyone he would. The brother he had always been a rival for, gone; and the other one leaning ever so slightly on his bench that the gesture could almost disguise his emotions.

Was he even conscious of what implied to get a preoccupation less to ascend to the throne? Was any of them conscious of what the crown meant?

It had no point to question it no more, for his father had taken it on his hands and approached his second child. It was so very fancy and complicated even just with a quick look. The sine of delight in Jungwoo's eyes could even be seen when the king raised it above Xiaojun's head and its rubies glistened purely. 

His eyes brushed from left to right, watching every single one of the guests as if it was a display case, then stopped at Jungwoo. 

He felt an uprising confidence, born inside his chest, maybe caused by the challenge that supposed a foreign prince entering his lands by surprise. Was on the configuration of a prince to be this overconfident and proud? Always so sure they can fix everything based on how good they are.

It was a royal course whatsoever.

— People of the Fire Region, here in front of you appears my  _ eldest _ son, Xiaojun of Ignis— started the king with an almighty voice, ending the train of thoughts of his son and directing everything to the end of the entire ceremony for the sake of starting the propitious party— In the present day, November 8th, he appears in front of the Court, in which he trust to spread his story to the rest of the country with integrity, to pronounce the oath provided in our royal books of law, to be proclaimed future King of Ignis; succeeding me on the throne. 

It was a speech he was ready to hear, or at least that he was aware of every word that conformed it. Nonetheless, it felt swifter than he thought, and it was soon enough when his father fit the gold crown on his curls and the roaring applause sounded inside the salon with its pertinent cheering and whistles and petals. 

He stood up without stepping on the tunic even once and walked towards the altarpiece, where he reclined with a renewed faith in himself that was letting him breathe freely.

That was the end of it, wasn't it? Years of lessons had been wrapped up, concluded with a flowery shaped crown that let the ruby drops rain close to his countenance. That was his crown. Conceded in his palace, built on his country, of which he was now a ruler. 

The speech flowed so easily from his lips that Hendery couldn't barely give credence to it. He definitely never trembled in front of people, his smile and exasperant calm was above all. 

— Here begins my reign, that I take with a deep emotion, and aware of the responsibility it entails. This is a nation forged throughout centuries of history by the shared work of millions of people from all parts of our territory. A great nation, ladies and gentlemen, in which I believe, whom I love and admire; and to whose destiny I have felt united all my life as an heir and, from today onwards, as the Crown Prince

As the last of his words was finished, it's hard to keep a recording of the following events that took place, regarding Xiaojun, on that night. It all became a disinhibited blend of more cheering, loud blessings from the crowd and more falling petals of celebration. 

His father had the reason all along, about how the rushed coronation would make everyone forget the tension of losing a loved prince, the royal council relaxing on their late actitudes of taking everything with tooth and nail, the noble class letting go the pressure against the royal house. 

There was an entire symphony orchestra now, that started playing for the present to give up to the fun, dancing here and there, using the happy and inebriated occasion to flirt with someone between the assistants, or engage in an animated game of cards or dices. People- nobles only, needless to say- approached the prince one by one to congratulate him and give him a polite reverence. 

Jungwoo also approached him, a cup of a golden rose liquid bubbling up graciously already on his hand, as well as a blue meringue kiss with a bite on it. 

— You have a silver tongue— he had told him while his long lashes shadowed his eyes on a hooded look of carelessness that made Xiaojun straighten a little— I have known. May you have a joyful and successful reign, for the time it lasts.

Xiaojun smiled, either unaware of his veiled threat or too high up on his very own ego trip to pay attention to Jungwoo's one.

— And may you enjoy it.

— Thoroughly— said Jungwoo with a grin, pressing the glass on his lips to get a sip of his drink as he walked away, losing between the people to enjoy the party himself.

Xiaojun breathed in, remembering that he had this under control, that the maids and pages were aware of Jungwoo’s futility to avoid it as much as possible. 

Thing that was, maybe, precipitated to call fulfilled. 

Honestly, there were so many suppressed problems going on inside that confined space of drunk souls that the General Dong Sicheng, smelling them hovering upon their styled and jewelled heads, had decided- and successfully executed- a scape from the salon. 

After all, he was a fast and agile soldier trained to catch anyone like a shadow, so going away from a bunch of loud noblemen was a piece of cake. He was at one of the many balconies of the upper floor, the windows behind him closed but not able to stop the muffled sound of music down there. It was fine, it is not like he liked absolute and complete solitude at all time, but Yangyang was sharing an amused conversation with the tipsy Hendry he had to assist, and Lucas had disappeared soon after the formal ceremony. That had left Sicheng with his third or fourth- depending on who you asked- glass of red liquor in his hand as the ice cubes clocked inside it and he leaned on the handrail, welcoming with a smile the jet black cat that was now walking to him and curling under his hand, as the soldier pampered him.

— Look at who we have here— he said with that particularly high-pitched tone that even soldiers use while speaking to pets. At least it wasn't annoying when Sicheng did it, his voice was gentle enough to make the animal plop face up on the railing so he could caress and scratch on the belly— The best girl of this palace, isn't that true? 

The cat meowed almost like replaying that Winwin's inquiries were true, indeed. 

— What is beautiful Atehshe doing out here? Isn't it too windy for an elegant lady like you? All these strangers are making your home theirs tonight and don't let you rest, I see… that's mean— Kept speaking Sicheng softly, pulling the Persian cat up on his embrace and spinning on his heels to carry her over Ten's chamber. When did General Na came up there and opened the window, he didn't know, but his expression faded to condescendance as soon as he saw him leaning on the threshold with a grin that almost looked soft on his lips— Ah,  _ you. _

—Pleasant night, uh? Congratulations on your nation's new prince.

—Thank you— replied the youngest, dry— Don't you have anyone else to annoy today? Is your life that sad? 

— Don't be arrogant, soldier, I wasn't looking for you, in the first place.

— Oh, of course, so what are you looking for, then?

— Fat chance that that's your business,

— Is that so?— Said Winwin smirking way too big as his veins filled with sarcasm— Or is that you don't have more false excuses to give me?

—You think you are a know-it-all— highlighted Yuta, chuckling through the slight irritation and approaching Sicheng, who recoiled a bit when he extended his hand to tickle the head of the black cat— But yo,¡u are not. I was looking for Prince Jungwoo, for your information, because his causes tend to drift, and losing his sight is… thrilling. Are you interested in my other planned schedules? Maybe that way you can stop thinking the world spins around you.

— Yeah, whatever, move aside.

The soldier made the try of resuming his previous task but Yuta did not move an inch from where he was, blocking the door. He stared at him, starting to feel the fury towards him again. Was he ever tired of behaving like an absolute douchebag or did he get a permanent pass for his indecencies with his charming ocean eyes? 

—Don't blame me for your own disgraces, you are the one who is talking to a cat instead of getting wasted on his own court.

— I'm not blaming you for anything,  _ Yuta _ — he said his name tired, with a certain something that gave a hint of how the foreigner had been close to hit it. Winwin pushed the crystal door open and moved in to cross the halls of the palace's wing that contained the most selected spaces, with the other general calmly following his steps— I just… Can you let me be? What do you win bothering me?

— I don't want to bother you, Gods, is it that hard to understand? 

— Then  _ what _ do you want?— Said Winwin, turning to him with that same face from the moment Yuta had managed to cut on his cheeks with the sword— Why do you put so much effort on me and… on me!

To be fair, looking at him, the purple bruise of his cheekbone was noticeable, and his lip had a brighter red there where Sicheng had made a cut, when it curled on a smirk, so the youngest one could brag about not being the only one who was wounded. 

He left the door of the room ajar and let the cat jump off his arms to sneak inside as per usual. 

—What do you think I want? You can figure it out, Winwin, we are quite similar. Probably the most similar people that are here tonight.

—I doubt it.

— Really? Fine, keep ignoring the obvious.

Sicheng looked at him with his usual frown a little bit lighter, but with his mind still on a stir and his fists clenching. Meanwhile Yuta turned on his heels, probably taking the lead to go back down the salon and search for the volatile prince with a special love for candy. 

He had to. He had to stop him for some wild reason. He had to know.

—Explain— he demanded, making Yuta smile before facing him again— Explain it, c'mon, you fucking nosy bastard, what obvious? 

—You can't stop thinking about me as that, a bastard, when you have the same protocol of action as I do. You would have done the same If prince Xiaojun told you shoot, of course, and I would be the one hating you quite bad if it was the other way around.

— That doesn't change it. In this life, it has been this way, it's my turn to hate you and you are the bastard.

— True. Maybe I am indeed a bastard. But let me tell you, dear Sicheng, that then you are also a bastard, aren't you?

He eyed him in a deadly way but he didn't open his mouth to complain, for he didn't find the words he needed to front him. 

Maybe he was right. 

The courses were something Sicheng were more used to dealing with than the senseless praises, it had always been like that. A soldier was much more defenseless to the kind of arrows that were not poisoned with hate and obnoxiousness. He was helpless when not knowing how to react, how to fight back something like sweet words that very deep in his brain told him he was going to blush and smile. 

His father had trained him like a tough shooter with thick skin for criticism and only criticism made him react. 

Sicheng felt it, the awakening of his senses all together from the core of his energy and up to fill his body and make his muscles move without a moment of hesitation before throwing his hands at Yuta's collar to drag him across the silent halls of the royal quarters. 

This is what he had told Lucas to help him avoid, he had tried his best but he was fuming, because he already knew Yuta was not so wrong when he said they were the same person. He would never, in his entire life, admit it out loud, his voice won't ever indulge him but as a believer himself, you don't need to see something, neither hear it, to believe it. 

The General Na, didn't fall behind and also grabbed him, initiating a fight of pulling with enthusiasm enough to make them both stumble against the half open door and pass the arch of it. 

Winwin looked up to the wooden ceiling with painted roses, in a symbolic gesture of looking above and beyond, to Heaven.

— Ten, wherever you are now resting in peace, forgive me for this.

The door slammed closed, both of them shoving each other back against it and pressing their bodies, still trying to see who could pull harder from the other's robes, trying to get impossibly closer. Crashing his lips to Yuta's, Sicheng was thinking that in for a penny, in for a pound; and made their tongues tangle in the most violent and sweet kiss he had ever had the pleasure of experiencing. 

And it was… it was… exhilarating. 

To the point that, he didn't miss, his whole body seemed to react in consequence, a wave running across it, with his skin shivering, his eyes falling closed, like if they now weighed the double of the usual, and his hands urging him to run them ruthlessly through the red locks of his hair, pushing from them until Yuta groaned and parted the kiss with an exhalation to guide his head back due to the tug. 

—I knew you would find yourself in me— practically moaned Yuta as the soldier of Ignis made a fire crack, his lips rolling down his neck, his words gathering on his lips and colliding on Yuta's skin.

— Shut up, shut the hell up!

— Shut  _ me _ up— to the provocation, Sicheng kissed his mouth again, with the satisfaction of being able to make him stop talking for real, ruining his mind and making him go through immense excitement that transformed into the firing of his body. He was hot like never before, and his cheeks had flushed red as a warning. His hands roamed over his own chest, searching for the buttons of his clothes but before he arrived, Yuta's fingers were fighting them and popping them open, one after the other— Let me be honest with you, you don’t match here at all. All of these old goats in their shirts and gowns, eating with their protocol cutlery it’s not your vibe. I think you would look better on a bed. At least on the bed we would be having more fun.

—Who says I want to fuck you? Maybe you are more full of yourself than I thought?— said Sicheng. The fact that he was throwing the ball back on the same field was also a new thing that made Yuta shiver within his skin.

—Sweetie…— he said holding his face and lifting it up to look at his eyes, speaking with his lips close to Sicheng’s mouth, which curled to grant him a smile. The youngest discovered with wide pleasure what he was looking for, his ignition. He was being so rough, and that was inciting the young soldier to some sort of behaviour— Weather is this way or backwards, you are losing your mind for me, and you know it.

He kissed him once more, his tongue felt hot running against his lips and making room to slip between them, Sicheng parting them open, letting him slip in and taste his flavour properly. His hands ran down his chest until he reached the front of his belt and unclasped it, the whip of it sounding on the air as Yuta pulled fast and eagerly off his hips. 

Sicheng had told himself never to do such a thing but he forgot totally, leaning on his chest without parting the kiss, where he would never be capable of denying that he felt the warmth radiating from him. And let’s say not only the warmth, oh no, there was, as well, an intense thrill shaking them both from the core of their desire. 

Sicheng, all lost on the pumping of blood through his veins, let his hips roll against the General Na, watching how his lips separated from his to let out a short and low whimper of pain. He guessed that his pants were too tight to have room for him in such a state. That amused him even more, if possible. 

Yuta would eat every single one of his words back, seeing that they were not equal. Not at all. Sicheng was  _ better _ . 

—You can’t wait any more, uh?— teased the younger soldier with a raspy and sensual voice just inches away from his lips. Yuta could barely stand him and his mean magnetism, just as much as Sicheng found it hard to do it.

— For what?

The youngest soldier let his digits drip down to caress his bulge just with the tip in a bold movement that made him twist. The truth is that Sicheng didn’t stop to think about anything else that wasn't him pushing Yuta off to lean him on the soft pillowy bed of red silk sheets, not even who of them both was going to be taking care of the other, his preferences were on fire anyways and couldn't be told apart.

They would figure it out. 

No matter how much he wanted to be cold outside and act as reckless as him, every time his eyes mixed with Yuta’s, a feeling reappeared devastating his mind and making his blood become lava. 

He hadn't let it out one way or another, trying to ignore that craving more would just lead him to crave him more the next time he meets him in the hallways of Ignis Grand Palace, becoming more intense, as if his body needed him. 

—To fuck me.

He was so close to the foreigner that he could hear his respiration colliding against his hair when he climbed on him, his legs at each side of his body.

—No, not really.

Winwin tugged from the tunic of the western soldier, exposing his shoulder and collar, still bandaged for the shot he had made, but he was about to do more damage on the go. They both were aching to feel their bodies together. 

He pushed it completely down his shoulders, running his knobby hands firmly over his toned muscles. Yuta, to be more than honest with himself, was struggling to hold it together, tugging Sicheng's beautiful black tunic over his head quickly and pressing his lips to his skin. It was kind of agitating to think that a week ago he had been pointing to that same spot of his throat with a sword and now he was covering him with kisses, grazing his lips over Winwin's skin around his now naked neck.

The youngest moaned in delight, arching his back to push his hips against him, running his hands over his bare chest, fingers brushing lightly over his navel as she made his way down to the buttons on his trousers. Maybe it was due to the glasses of liquor he had that he was so single-minded, but Sicheng rubbed his hand over the now obvious bulge in general Yuta's trousers, making him ache in the confines of the fabric.

—Suck it...— he said with no shyness or hesitation, only a voice with a tint of demand— C'mon, Win.

—In your dreams...—breathed Winwin knowing the eldest was looking down at his moist lips, which he licked slowly, so the wet glossy look could make his dick throb. However, the technique backfired, Yuta flipping him over. 

Before Winwin could register that he landed on his side and dipping in the pile of innumerable cushions Ten had on his bed, Yuta had already stranded him and pinned his wrists to the bed. His soft wiggle on top of his hips was not an accident but an act of victory that made Winwin close his eyes and part his lips with a sigh, interrupting all his complaints.

—As you wish— Smiled Yuta with a fake benevolence, feeling how quick Winwin's body was reacting to his grinding. 

The youngest eye's opened in time to see Yuta getting a hold of the suggestive red silk curtain of the canopy, so thin and smooth that it was translucent, but luxurious enough to get strong around Sicheng's wrists when he started tying them up together with tight knots.

— Don't you dare!— He scolded, without help already, since he was trapped before he could fuss. Yuta almost drooled seeing him fight, with the beautiful body he had got over the years of training stretching and tensing on the middle of the red pillows, just like a wealthy artifact. He couldn't resist but straight up pulling his white pants off, freeing the hardened result of all the grinding on top, and trailing bites and licks all over his hard stomach. Winwin shivered, with his hips rising from the mattress and a breathy feeling softening his next threat until it was nonsense out of pride— Don't you dare... Gods...

The sensation of his flesh between Yuta's teeth was more alluring that he had stopped to imagine, so much that he didn't fight to free his hands more, and instead held on the curtain as he circled his hips higher with a lovely moan to the ears of General Na and a smile that he was glad the eldest couldn't see.

— You said?

—I said shut your big mouth and use it for the good stuff.

—I asked first, soldier— said Yuta, getting rid of his own pants and using a hand to squeeze Sicheng's hardness, teasing him so well the youngest frowned when it soon ended.

Yuta hovered over him until his knees were resting close to his face, one of his arms leaning on the top of the header as support while the other hand was guiding his dick to Sicheng's lips that, for quite is surprise, were parting for him before he could say anything else. All of the situation finally tripped at the edge of the cliff and plumbed down into a big excess. 

Yuta slowly making his way in, filling his mouth just as much as he could, while the other soldier just surrendered to suck down on him greedily and... feeling that he was growing uncontrollable. For granted that he hated to admit it, but it got him all hot that Yuta stroked his tings down is throat, pushing his head against the pillows, pushing further in, getting some control on him. Sicheng flicked his tongue for him, engaging more and more into the twisted game they had, a transparent thread dripping from his lips as he drooled with the rapid pace of his playmate, that was now having trouble breathing without moaning in between.

Sicheng opened one of his eyes to rejoice with his shaken up expression, for he was feeling the hot pulse of Yuta's dick on his tongue and he knew what was next, feeling even excited to have him shattering, and trying to do it faster for him, wetter... wilder. The thrill made him choke and swallow a tiny bit with the last thrust before Yuta pulled back with a groan accompanied by the ominous splash that landed on his face, despite Sicheng's tongue sticking out for him.

Let's say it was a rebellious act from Yuta that, lies apart, loved the view a little too much 

He sighed heavily, holding on the intricate header still so hard that he bet he had rose shapes printed on his skin, with the tingles of pleasure taking his entire body for themselves, his body becoming weightless and sensitive. When he opened his eyes again and looked down, Sicheng's dark brown eyes were staring back at him intensely and with the ghost of a smile twirling on his irises.

—That's how long you last?— Finally the face of offense invaded Yuta, with the fault of the soldier's words— Out of shape or I'm that hot?

—You were cuter with my d-

—Untie me, if you want more— said Winwin playing with the material between his fingers— Judging by how I have you dripping down my face I can say that if I were you I would listen.

The general from Ventum Anguis raised an eyebrow, pretending to be sceptical, but for sure, he obliged, more than complacent with how into it Winwin was. From the moment he had seen him he had wanted to have him, possess all that beauty that had deadly pierced his shoulder. He needed to free his hands if he wanted all that fury exploding against him and crushing against his body, made passion; so he pulled off the knots and, in a quiet moment, observed him get unleashed and move towards him, kneeling over his crossed legs on the bed.

His hand caressed the way up from his shoulder blade to his long red hair, pulling hard from his soft locks to get a sweet angle to kiss his mouth, so slowly and carefully it could almost feel tender if it wasn't for how his nails were digging in the flesh of the youngest's hips, with crescent moon shapes.

It was another peak of their encounter, to squeeze each other's bodies like if the were going to fuse and unconscious scratching red lines on their backs as a proof they had conquered some stupid and senseless territory of no one. Sicheng had an abstract painting of nails and teeth all over him when he abandoned Yuta's swollen lips that had ovulated him for the last thirty minutes, as a minimum, and tore from his hand, moving him fast across the scandalously big alcove.

There was, among so many other exquisite pieces of furniture that could be a good target to get completely feverish, a beautiful couch which upholstery felt like the softest velvet against Yuta's back when he landed on it. It was sufficiently wide to let him spread his legs at the same time as his head flopped on the back of it. He was so lost on the blazing heat he felt across his entire self after the foreplay that the time that Winwin took to run to the bathroom and back was just a breath.

He came back fast, this time being his turn to strand Yuta on the seat. The mere touch of his cock coming into contact with anything would have been enough, but the fantasy skyrocketed through the ceiling, for Winwin had stolen one of the flower oil bottles of the bathroom's self and he let it pour abundantly into his hand and on Yuta. He hissed with the cold of the liquid, almost sure that it would become steam when it touched his skin, but smiled for what it meant.

It smelled strong and fresh when it dripped down and Sicheng worked on it to spread it well on his shaft, fingers pressing on the crease sending a wave of pleasure that shook Yuta from head to toe. The youngest approached Yuta more, as he gave him a celestial stroke that ended with a rub of his more confidential parts.

— Try to last longer this time, make something good for this nation— teased the soldier, but he, as well, was starting to bite on his bottom lip as a repression of all the aching neediness. He was trying to conceal how freaking aroused he was but he knew in the bottom of his chest that Yuta could see his cravings as he looked into his eyes.

For God's glory, he had been there gasping and moaning on his dick, why was he still so fixated in defeating him. Must be the fact they were both raised for competitiveness and that won't ever stop.

It didn't seem to him like he was winning when he lowered himself and the wet and hot erection of General Yuta pressed against his ass, but with total sincerity, sometimes a soldier gotta be selfish. Sometimes it has to be the nobleman, out of duty, having fun at a party. Times in which said soldier just opts for the bold movement of seating down and let that shaft make him groan and roll his eyes.

He breathed faster, suddenly. Sitting dead still on someone’s cock is an interesting thing to do.

The moaning and twitching from Yuta, desperate need for movement and sensation, had him on an adrenaline rush.

— For the love of whatever you deposit your faith in, move...

The soldier sort of reacted to his words, but not as expected. Though, it was pleasant how he went straight to his lips. Yuta, leaning back with the melting pleasure of the kiss, forgot for a moment that they hated each other. The youngest started moving, with an exploratory bounce first, but then getting the rhythm born from a euphoric sentiment. It felt good, really good. He didn't had the concrete memory of sex feeling that nice, maybe not even of having something as big stuck in there, but Yuta's lenght inside of him was far beyond what he would ever admit in a hundred years of kingdom. Maybe if they were born in another life, he would have said right away how wonderfully warm and tight he was caressing his spots.

Yuta wrapped his arms around his waist, but did not try to guide him anymore, because the youngest, all alone, could break the base of that beautiful armchair. 

Then, it came to him, the sensation of Sicheng's fingertips traversing freely on his shoulders, light like the caress of his well known western breeze, as they settled on his neck with a tempting touch of his fingers right where they had to, as expected from a trained soldier.

He abruptly remembered what they were about, parting the kiss and giving him a dangerous and lustful glance from that angled tilt.

— You sure about that?

Winwin smirked, his fingers pressing on his throat strong enough to make him have a sharp gasp that ended both his jibber-jabber and his air. He had a firm pulse from holding his arc still, and an impulsive feeling of ruining Yuta that fueled all of the above reasons to be choking him.

— Countless times I have warned you that I would love to wrap my hands around your neck—The foreigner opened his lips, probably to reproach, but it only regaled Winwin with a swallow sound. It was the most satisfying thing he had done in months, and that's why he was also harder than all that time around and, shamelessly, leaking on Yuta's pale and toned stomach. Every single part of his body seemed to be twitching in sporadic waves, accompanied by loud pants for breath— Suits you.

He let go, observing with delight the failed try of Yuta to grasp air in a calm and guarded way, turned pant. His voice broke like glass as he tried with the sentence again.

— Please, fast, I'm starving again.

He would have never said he would live to hear Yuta asking him for something with a "please", and for that reason or whichever it was, he really had his hands gripping on the back of the couch and speeding up more. Whimpers and moans tumbled from his very own lips, as he rolled his hips finding a lethal point that made all his nerves shoot out sharply with a whine.

He felt himself so goddamn close and still he was holding back, both of them stubborn enough to refuse to be the first one shattering down. Nonetheless, a clenching heat was having them both suffocate, back and forth, they both moving against the other, feeling the vibrations of bliss and erotic friction sending an intense messages to their clouded brains. It was finally more than anyone could take.

—Yes, yes,  _ yes _ !

It felt so messy, still. Everything became sloppy and damp as they crushed on the wave of rapture forgetting they were sitting on a couch too expensive for all the things they were getting stained. The exhaustion came soon after that intense madness, making the youngest soldier almost consider to rest his forehead on Yuta's shoulder but he just passed his leg over him and went back to seating on the red embroidered cushions of the armchair.

They were a fiery image, sitting there, in a room that not only didn’t belong to them but to a deceased prince, their countenances facing the ceiling and gasping for some air with sparkles working on their nerves, their legs weak and not enough to hold them up now and their skin marked all over the place.

—That— Started Winwin, dizzy and drunk from pleasure— Was the best orgasm I have ever had.

— You are fucking welcome.

— You too.

Yuta scoffed.

— Wanna repeat it?

— Hell yeah.

— Are you going to admit now that we are... very similar?

— Nope— said Sicheng all sure, his head flopping to the side to look at Yuta in the eye. It was unusual to see someone with blue eyes, over there, the watery color always getting him back on track and reminding him where Yuta was coming from. Maybe that's why he felt so inclined to make him close them tight— I am  _ better _ .

— Oh, please— exhaled Yuta sarcastically, getting on his feet so his body could stretch. Half of his tone was seriously pissed and the other half was only playing— I should had let you tied up, I swear, like that, you  _ almost  _ look like an angel.

Winwin tended his hands to him, closed, with his wrist glued to one another. The foreigner general raised his eyebrows surprised, but nonetheless, with a smile, reaching his hand to hold his wrists.

It was never that easy with Sicheng, of course, he pulled them back again before he could close the grip.

— One day you will learn to be a good soldier. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wlcome to the roughest sex scene of this saga and i am sorry :D


	10. The face of an empire

Yangyang was having an animated conversation with prince Hendery, sitting on the stairs of the wide palace entrance by the prince's side, unaware of how the stability of the world he had known was just as fragile as the one an elephant could have standing on a thread while balancing a faberge egg on his forehead. 

But back to the royal scene at the stairs, Hendery was very clearly touched by the effect of alcohol, which had made him run up there to the middle of the staircase of the hall to avoid more vacuous conversations with suitors. His dignity was loosing up, but Liu Yangyang, personal page of the since-always-dethroned prince of Ignis, was having a good laugh trying to ease him. 

It was inconvenient that the prince was chewing a chocolate and leaning across the carpeted steps with a not so protocolary pose, but from the miscellaneous tasks that a page had to deal with everyday, trying to talk Hendery into seating straight was not in the lowest position, by far. 

— Can you believe, Yangie?— he said, making the page recoil a bit, face burying in his hands trying not to laugh I'm front of the scattered guest that were sparing their time around the hall too, and holding the edge of his sleeve to stop the exaggerated gesticulating, pointing with another chocolate on his hand to whatever he wanted to emphasize— It is over. 

— Majesty, I beg you, speak a tad lower for now.

— The fight is over— he repeated— You gotta tell him.

— I would, majesty, I would— said Yangyang with a soft smile, making up the bite of slight sadness that his master made him feel out of the blunt.

There was the come down from the high cliff of euphoria that alcohol had given him. It's what he had to himself, after all, everything that goes up has to go back down.

—Tell Xiaojun he can stop fighting now— He breathed in, his voice getting more steady as he spoke, and thankfully lower— He doesn't have to push us away anymore.

— No one is going to push anyone away, majesty.

—Chocolate?— asked Hendery, shifting the mood faster than the blink of an eye and tending him the small dessert.

—No, thank you— laughed Yangyang— We ate a box of fifteen units, that's enough chocolate.

—But look at it, it has a sea-horse shape, how can you say not to this itty-bitty sea creature made of cocoa— Yangyang shook his head, laughing and bending back, as Hendery stretched out his hand, more and more, to put the chocolate close to his face. 

— Hnmgh— he groaned and laughed. Then, the prince, started laughing as well, moving to the other side to show the sweet to someone else.

— Sir Renjun? 

The foreigner page in question had quick reflexes, and easily dodged the mortal "offering" of Hendery's hand. He looked at the prince dead serious, but his eyes had a moment of titilant surprise. Maybe his quiet reputation was only hearsay born by the appearance he had to give in official meetings. 

As for Ventum Anguis' page, Yangyang was not surprised that Renjun had a fast reaction and a collected semblant. He was the smallest page he had seen, speaking about physics, especially because comparing him with Lucas, there was a wide gap; but his entire construction was as grounded -or more- than other pages could present. He had broad and balanced shoulders, an elegant feel to him, especially on the night that occupied them, and a blow of resolve on his semblant. 

He didn't stop looking at prince Hendery at any moment, thought there was a small fidgeting of his fingers with the tassel of a white fan that, Yangyang supposed, should belong to the Prince of Wind.

— Thank you, majesty, but I am full— He said politely declining the chocolate— Oh… hum… congratulations on the region's new prince.

— Preach— said Hendery, sipping- no, gulping- from a cup that contained, probably, more wine— And Gods may be with us, amen.

— Yeah, humm… majesty, excuse me if I disturb your… — Renjun searched for the correct word that could fit both the conversation and his thoughts, his eyes wandering from the open box of chocolates to the half empty glass, then to the face of the royal— Jubilee, but may I ask you if you have seen Prince Jungwoo? 

— I have, I have… he is very fair, I gotta say. Neat.

—Majesty, don't joke with Sir Renjun— coed Yangyang embarrassed, as he made a kind laugh sound so everything could seem a joke from a happy prince. His master rarely was a problem to anyone, but he had a bad timing. It was not the usual that he had to do the improvisations but they say a coronation day has to be an ominous work for palace staff. Yangyang wasn't born yet when the previous coronation took place, so he was discovering the dynamics with fits and starts— Excuse my master, Ignis' humor might be confusing for outsiders.

—Sure, sir— said Renjun with imperturbable politeness and seriousness. 

The prince who owned him was not as distant as the page in question. So measured and cautious with royalty they were really a complete mismatch, but prince Hendery, even at first instance, preferred Renjun over his highness.

_ "He is crystal but tarnished" _ had argued Hendery, a sharp turn in his poetry, as soon as they were confidentially seating by themselves. The youngest brother had a talent putting his thoughts into light and pleasant prose. 

Nonetheless, Xiaojun, aware of this skill, had put down the cup of tea he was having, with a sigh. He didn't fail to reply with an equally methodical figure  _ "Crystal doesn't tarnish without someone blowing hot air onto it".  _ Then, to the weary grimace of his brother, the eldest added " _ This is your home and that makes you the host. What's the job of a good host?" _ . 

It wasn't special endearment what the royal infante of Ignis professed towards their special guest. Just an hour with feet set onto Ignis and Hendery could say the Wind Prince was not his cup of tea. It was absurd, maybe, but his aplomb, his… social grace, made him repelling to his palate. And now, his own brother was lecturing him upon the afternoon snack's table, to cap it all. Hendery's eyes fell to the steaming tea in front of him, without conviction his mouth was automatically muttering _ "To be welcoming and kind"  _ . 

However, he did not stop there, giving a last chance to raise objections to the middle brother, thing that in fact he never tended to do  _ "But I don't understand why. This is my house not his, everyone is dancing attendance on Jungwoo and he quite not de-…" _ . 

He had not finished the sentence when Xiaojun's darting gaze quieted him at the stroke of a pen. 

— A glance at my brother's direction and I am sure his highness would be around— said Hendery straightening on the stairs, finally, and ended up making a move to stand up. He did it successfully, for the pride- and let's say, the surprise too- of Yangyang— If you, sir, want, I would accompany you. My brother at the first contact can result more caustic than I am.

— Don't bother, majesty.

— Is not a problem, don't be timid— dismissed Hendery, making the way down the stairs as the simple cape that completed the look of his beige pants, made the soft noise of satin unfolding after a long hour treating himself with wine and chocolates— Let me help.

— I fear is not shyness what drives me to denial— said Renjun serious, staring at the prince's face. Yangyang could almost swear that mixed in his tone, there was a drop of condescendence that he, obviously, didn't like to hear directed to his master— But the fact that I already checked with the Crown Prince.

Hendery squinted his eyes, inquisitive. Yangyang could feel in his bones that the embriagate state of the infante was currently in the process of being erased, almost reaching extinction, and giving room to a more mistrustful expression. 

— Oh, my brother… all talk and no action when it comes to be  _ affectionate _ . He is a bit bashful, you may forgive him— He said resolutive, trying to hold down the situation and using a secure tone that aimed towards pressing himself down, as well.

— I should find Prince Jungwoo, it's my job to supervise him.

— Don't worry, Sir Renjun, wherever he chose to go, all of this palace's people on service are joyfully to help his highness in any request.

The prince was right, a word of Jungwoo would be enough to work machines for his desires. It was heart-rending how a little thing like him had put the entire palace on their toes, and Hendery was just opening the blinds, peeking outside of the windows with that misty surface, ready to wipe off the little drops that clouded his vision. 

He didn't like the uprising view. 

Ignis' arid and dry atmosphere was not as hot on the night of the coronation, the wind outside was gently blowing on his blonde hair like a gentle caress. 

Jungwoo had left the fan behind, not needing to work on fanning himself anymore, as he flopped on the cushions of the garden's coach, his feet passing over the armrest and his slippers getting loose and falling on the grass. It was strange, the vision he created, for there was a strong contrast between all the warm colors of the desert's plants and the dots of burgundy berries splattered on green, surrounding the delicate white flower of the west. It was like a disorganized palette of paint with all the different colors of patches, very chaotic but nonetheless full of a transcendental comfy charm. 

He was beautiful, the warmth of the desert still had a reddish tone coloring his usually pale nose and cheeks. 

Red like Ignis. 

Is not like Lucas had the intention to stop and stare at the uncommon nature of the prince, not that he either needed it, he had time for it after Xiaojun had taken the crown once and for all. 

The years of incertitude had flowed into a strange serenity that condensed into that big celebration. A party that was all the class of mess and coziness that seemed to define Lucas as a person. 

In his mind he couldn't decide if he should have been awkward when Jungwoo pulled his hand towards the dancefloor or just pay attention to how well he seemed to flow to the accords. He just let him do it, at first out of an unablenes to decline a dance offer from a high-standing person- to which he wasn't specially used to, he had limited the most of his life to observe the dance from the seats-, but then he could say, not without a bit of shame, that he had fun. 

It wasn't fair, all of it was an invitation to the senses. Jungwoo's robe with embroidered flowers was falling like a fountain of silver from the edge of the bench, waving with the wing, holding him in a floating hug. He could look smaller than he was, thrown on the cushions with his head back, moving his feet and putting his knees closer to his chest to leave a space for Lucas on the contiguous seat of the double couch. 

It was so quiet in the garden, the music didn't make it through the large halls that separated it from the salon, making everything a moment of lull in between the rush of an insane night. Jungwoo let out the most tranquil exhale Lucas had ever heard from a prince, as if the worldly troubles did not matter to him, and it elevated towards the night sky, the warm air ascending with the same velocity of the flower that fell from a perfectly trimmed arc above them and made the prince squint his eyes, surprised, when it landed on his forehead, between the parting bangs of palid blonde. 

With the unexpected impulse that kept moving Lucas through the night, coming from a wave of languid emotions, the page brushed his skin the most lightly he could, the flower falling off to the grass a considerable amount of seconds before Lucas remembered to withdraw his touch. 

—Sorry— he said, not really feeling the apologize— It was on your face.

Jungwoo chuckled, the sound reverberating in Lucas' heart for the instant before the prince got to speak. 

— Your hands are so warm.

—Oh well, I am… I am hot-blooded— He said with a small laugh too, playing with his own fingers— You know? Desert things… 

—Desert things— concluded Jungwoo chilling on the cushions again. He had something to him, a certain carelessness that made him look spontaneous and less jeweled than he actually was. Or maybe that was Lucas, very used already to look over the shine of excess— I noticed it earlier, when I asked you to dance with me.

— Oh…

The page scratched the back of his head, recalling the scene of the ball dance. 

Renjun had opened his eyes as wide as dessert plates when Lucas accidentally stepped on Jungwoo's long and white gown, making him stumble a bit between the guests, and clearly putting in evidence that he didn't really have "enviable dance skills". But then the royal had slapped his shoulder with the fan again and laughed it off so easily that Lucas had also had a quick laugh. 

From all the crazy adventures that had run upon him since he boarded the  _ Storm's Lily _ , and there were clearly a few of them, swinging the prince of Ventim Angis around a dance hall, making him spin with his long dress, was the one that felt more laid-back. 

He shook his head, coming back down to the garden and the conversation with the prince.

— Thank you for that, I had a good time. You didn't have to take the trouble of dancing with a peasant.

— Don't bother to be modest, dear, I should thank you for taking care of me in such an attentive way, don't I?— He said, after puffing, gesturing with his head to the flower laying now on the ground— What type of flower is that, anyways? 

— An… anemone, I think?

— Anemone? 

— It's a garden flower, I believe they don't grow in the wild. They tend to be summery but because of the weather they keep blooming all the time here. 

— How do you know that? You are a page, look like a soldier and have the knowledge of a teacher… What are you, Lord Lucas? 

— I look like a soldier?— scoffed the youngest as Jungwoo made this funny question, playing with the edges of his hair.

—Well, with smoother manners, but you definitely don't look like a weakling.

— I have to admit I have a good build— said Lucas, his chest maybe puffing, out of pride, a bit more than it should have— The General Dong keeps me entertained with sword duels sometimes, I guess I owe it to him.

—That still doesn't explain the cultivated conversation— smiled Jungwoo, reaching for the white anemone on the grass in order to play with it, spinning it between his fingers as he leaned his cheek on his free palm and looked at Lucas directly— What's your secret? 

— I read with the princes, I learned a part of what they were taught.

—I see. You are really tenacious, I haven't missed it— said Jungwoo with a crooked smile— I took you out just because of these reasons. This court is a farm of pretentious nobles showcasing a variety of unimpressive, bland charms, tonight. Yet the page is exceptional. My time is not to be wasted... and you have the courage of your convictions.

Lucas swallowed the small amount of saliva he still had in his drying tongue. He felt like a child again, going back to the past when people could still make him blush with a sincere praise. 

His mother, a very intelligent woman natural from Ignis, had raised him with such a delicate care and appreciation that Lucas grew up very conscious of the importance of being kind. Everytime he learned something new in his mom's nursery, she gave him a small mooncake and a compliment, and he had always blushed, for he had felt so proud of himself he naturally sent the blood to color his cheeks.

With the return of being sensitive, it came the sensation of comfort. 

He breathed out. Jungwoo made him comfortable, that was the reason that clicked suddenly on his brain. He had a despreocupate and unapologetic laugh, a tone of voice that soothed him down fast. It was like a piece of tin, so smooth like the Silver Palace's surface, that the page could only see balance, once and for all, in the middle of his world that had been tumbling all along.

— That words worth double if coming from you, majesty— he finally said with a grin that showed all his teeth and the unique musicality of Lucas' raspy voice, meeting the air of Ignis for the first time in a while— Since you are, with no doubts, the most perfect of all the presents. 

The western prince smiled at him, directly looking, as he was still reclined over his own knees. 

— Are you trying to seduce me?

Lucas's brain switched off momentaneously, viewing the delicacy in which Jungwoo's eyes seemed to capture the stars of the sky inside his pupils.

Where did he had heard similar words? Seducing Jungwoo. He couldn't recall it in the back of his mind. 

He had been warned about him, his power to devastate and he had thought he was dangerous, but he never thought the reason will be there, in his eyes of hazel making his heartbeat buzz in his eardrums. 

He cleared his throat with the answer dancing on his tongue, ready to play its excellent part in that game of twisted fate. 

—  _ No. _

Even before he spoke, he felt the prince's hands, covered in white lace, and his lungs expanded with the fresh air of the garden. 

His voice had a special lilt, his words soft with the smile that already played on his face. 

With the kiss came electric tingles and a desire to bet heavier on the stakes. But no, Lucas didn't lean in further, didn't make it easy or too keen. Not even when Jungwoo brushed the hair on the back of his head, slow and gentle like the sweet kiss he was pressing on Lucas. It was too soon for all of that, too soon for not being petrified on the bench under that arch of white anemones or whatever flower it was, only his eyes widening realizing what all was about. 

It was a silent kiss, just with a crackling sound of a spark. Lucas was totally unprepared. But he was, nonetheless, fascinated of how warm his lips felt on his, in what seemed like just a second before they pulled back, or maybe several minutes. 

It was relative, just as much as the same person can be perceived as total opposites depending on the viewer. They said, particularly in a Ventum Anguis' proverb, that every person has three faces at the same time. The one that people see, the one they show to people and the one they really are. 

In regards to the prince, he calmly got his feet off the bench, took his very fine cup, almost drained to the end, and sipped the last bubbly bottom of his drink. Just in time, like if he could hear the murmurs traveling across the air, the black silhouette of Sicheng crossed the threshold of the garden and stood there. He had the same severe expression as always, even though a tingle of change was dominating in his pose, maybe because the first of his always tidy clothes was about two or three buttons down. Anyways, Lucas wasn't in for aastop to play spot the difference game with the general of the court. He was more into listening to what he came to say. 

— Jungwoo, majesty, It's a luck to find you here. I would like to let you know that your page and the rest of your entourage is preoccupied of not seeing you around, maybe your highness wants to regal them with your presence, let them know your integrity is unharmed 

Jungwoo  _ heavily _ sighed without restraints, a look to the air telling the nuisance caused by the constant requirement of his formal presence. However, he stood up diligently. 

— Excuse me, my title requires my attention, Renjun is surely bordering a heart attack and I don't want to bother finding a functional substitute for him, he is good and hard to replace. I hope we see each other very soon, Lucas

— Sure. Very soon— murmured the page, not moving an inch from his seat, regardless of the fact that Winwin had already retired from the door and was mixing into the party again, probably to search for a glass of whatever that could make him rehydrate after a secret lustful rendezvous. 

He watched the relentless pace of prince Jungwoo towards the door, the shape of the robe's train caressing every blade of grass like an unusual frost that didn't belong to a nation of fire, as he walked towards the door. And once there, he looked at how he glanced over him for the last time, above his shoulder, the corner of his lips raising to the rhythm of a lonely blow of wind that brushed his blonde bangs out of the way and made half a dozen of anemones fall atop Lucas.

Their wet touch of recent watering was less surprising than a sudden panic that climbed on his chest.

And when he was gone only, when the page was completely alone, Lucas dared to stick out his tongue and brush it across his bottom lip teasing the state of them. A sugary taste greeted him when it got caught on his buds, for Jungwoo's kiss reminded there with the company of meringue's soft flavor.

Straight on his lips.


	11. Every little lie

The coronation day was, in every sense, what the eldest employees of the palace had named as one of the messiest nights of the decade.

Lucas woke up uniquely vivid, sensing all of the cells of his skin. 

He had expected he would wake up exhausted, with just a couple of hours falling on his shoulders, maybe even crushed and sprawled on his bed like a dead weight who had the luck to pass out enveloped on his most expensive set of clothes. 

And, indeed, he was crosswise on the mattress of his bed, over the cover and causing his feet to hang from the edge, but there was no dizziness, neither a headache, to make him regret his drink choices from last night. Instead of the stale flavour of dizziness on the back of his tongue, he still had some kind of sugar coated tingle on his lips. 

He was in a state of confusion, but that was his usual mind so he wasn't so surprised. 

Lucas had been like that since he was a child, he liked to be playful and maybe live fast in a way that made him a little bit unfocused. But he was also affectionate, and that day, the day he woke up with a new prince seating on his nation's throne, anxiety was different. 

He couldn't stop thinking about what happened back in the garden but, at least, the pace was slowing down. 

It was as if this prince, Jungwoo, didn't make him hold his breath. Prince of the wind, indeed. 

After the royal left to calm the waters of his entourage, he had gone to his page Renjun and asked him for a plate full of brisket that he ate while conversing with prince Hendery, both pretending they cared about the other at least for a bit. 

Lucas had played with the idea of crushing that awkward combination over the table, for both royals' sake, but he beholden. He wasn't even sure of what had happened under that arc of anemones… why he didn't even feel regrets. Not a filament of his body was able to see the shame of his act. 

Maybe that's what changed. 

He was still half asleep and stumbling all across his doubts when Sicheng crossed the door of his room without caring about the minimum courtesy of knocking on it before. Soldier uniform on, he palmed Lucas' chest energetically to shake off the slumber. 

—Shit, Winwin— He groaned with the violent interumptiom of his calm, that made his train of thought crush against the first wall it found— Can you not give me a heart attack, this is not a barricade. What do you want?

— Ah! I thought you would be partially dead from the terrible hangover or something. Just dropping by to remind you that the world keeps spinning and we still have to work today. I don't think prince Xiaojun sleeps as late as Ten, may he rest in peace, used to do. 

— I'm fine— Answered Lucas with a smile as he sat up on the bed and threw a cushion to Sicheng's face. Being a soldier, he could have dodged that quite easily, but he just stood on his place and let the puffy pillow hit his face and fall on the floor— I didn't drink, anyways.

— Seriously? Huang Xuxi did not drink red liquor during a royal party… What is going on in this world? 

— I was… I had… I had to be attentive of Prince Xiaojun's requests.

— Oh, fuck off— Accused Sicheng with a mischievous grin— Like if Xiaojun wasn't busy getting a tone of blessings and letting the ladies feed him mango rice. The heck were you doing? I asked you to stay with me so I stopped getting in trouble but you were idling! 

—You fucked it up that bad?— Scoffed Xuxi, already up on his feet, putting his shirt from the night before down his shoulders and going through the room to find one that fit his daily routines better. The irony of the situation was especially unusual, given the untold truths— Who won? General Na or you?

Sicheng didn't seem to be joking about how bad Yuta pissed him off when he had told Lucas, but the page haven't weighed the importance of his words too well, apparently, because his playful question unchained a wild reaction on the soldier, that drew his sword so fast towards Lucas that he gasped and stumbled back, landing on his butt. 

— That's what you get for being a blabbermouth— The soldier giggled for himself and put the sword back to the scabbard just as fast. 

— Yeah, well, your lip is bleeding. 

—Get dressed— said Sicheng as he pushed the door open in order to get out of there before his friend could grab the commodity of their trust and change his black flowery pants in front of him. Maybe and just maybe he also wiped his bottom lip with the back of his hand because he knew well where he had a passionate bite— His majesty convened a special breakfast meeting in the gallery with his brother and the prince Jungwoo. You must attend. 

He nodded. 

Of course he had to attend, after all, Xiaojun was the page of the legit crown prince of Ignis, committed to safeguard the integrity of his master, protecting, at the same time, the interest of all the citizens that put their trust on the crown of gold and rubies that laid between Xiaojun's brunette curls. 

And Lucas was the peasant.

Choosing the gallery to throw his first intimate event as a prince was a smart move. 

The ceilings were high, painted white, with the same color moldings that depicted flowers on the corners. It was a long hall, the space longer than its width, every inch flaunting clean and wide windows that were now open and letting the curtains be blown, like a magical cloud of silk, caught in the breeze that reminded from the night before. 

It looked absolutely elegant and reliable. 

However, there was not enough of a gale to cool down a room in the desert with direct sun through the many windows. Aware of this, Lucas came early, red fan on his hand to preserve the neat appearance of his person from the sweat. Xiaojun had told him to go earlier than him because he would be entering in the last place. Dramatic effect, he guessed, but it was a good chance for Lucas to get time to clean the mess that the cat had made, because somehow, she had been able to take down one of the bed's curtains in Ten's room.

In the middle of the gallery, a table small enough to look like an offensive waste of money and space in such a big space, was already displaying a set of plates with sweets, cakes, bread, fruit, scrambled eggs, garlic mushrooms, turkey slices and so on, with an innumerable variety of breakfast choices. 

The first person to show up, surprisingly, was the youngest prince, followed by his always loyal page.

He looked like the night had gone easy on him, at least until he sat on the chair and his eyes ticked slightly due to the jab he felt going through his stomach. Yangyang had to look at the floor and press his lips together to not burst a laugh, as he positioned besides Lucas in their correspondent spot, sharing the result of the same fan.

—What has he done?— murmured Lucas, amused, to the ear of Yangyang, as their master revolved on the seat and disimulately played with his red veil to block the sun on his face— He looks like just two steps away from spewing his guts out… 

—Explosive combination of red wine and around four pounds of chocolates.

—That far he took it? He is not the type. 

—He fainted on his room's carpet and when I moved him to bed he called me Xiaojun and urged me to "pull up some courtesy with his own family, shit fuck".

—"Wow" is the only thing I can answer to that.

—That's not the worst part. You know how he is the easiest one from the siblings, but last night he lost the ability to read people's intentions… and that drove us to the sincere turn of his tongue. 

—Really? 

—You know the daughter of the dukes of the upper region of Phēa? 

— Sorn? The small one with big eyes?

— She is lovely, right? Well, she chose the most inappropriate moment to aim on Hendery's direction. I have never seen someone reject, with such an innocent impulse, an invitation to "explore the wonders of the night". It was  _ almost _ insolent.

— That being said, I admire him— commented Lucas trying, as hard as Yangyang, not to laugh— He is sitting straight on the chair after all of that wine, I could never be half the elegant with a hangover. 

— He holds more embarrassment than etiquette. 

As they were sharing the unexpected setbacks of coronation day, the door opened once more, this time to allow the two guests inside its walls. 

Renjun, the page from the Wind Region, seemed more than appalled by the heat and was furiously batting his fan as hard as Lucas. And for the prince's side, he simply didn't bother wrapping himself in a robe. He was passing with a white shirt lined in blueyish tones and high waist pants, letting his hair be the protagonist of his luxury with a complicated net of braids and pins behind his head that was topped with a white flower, very familiar for Lucas. 

It was enough to make his breath go softer, and his anxious reflections melted and formed just the beginning of a smile. 

Jungwoo passed in front of him and his eyes raised to look into his, in a second that appeared to Lucas like all the curtains beat on the wind at once. 

— Good morning. 

—Good morning— repeated everyone like a choir. 

From Lucas to Hendery, not missing Yangyang, everyone answered to Jungwoo's greeting in unison, yet Lucas had a certain security of owning the honor of his words. 

He followed him with his eyes as he placed himself on one of the mushy chairs of the breakfast table. 

— Is it always like this?— grumbled Renjun, taking him out of the daydream, joining the line of pages that were chit-chatting at the side— This hot?

— And more— Added Yangyang— Even the rain is hot here, like a shower.

Renjun uttered a disgusted murmur, that would have received an equally disinterested look by the page of Hendery, but the door finally opened for the last time and Xiaojun walked in with a fresh look of importance on his countenance and a loose tunic of the most Ignisish red silk, embroidered white. 

— Good morning.

— Good morning— Coed everyone again, as he plopped down in the third chair with the biggest grin he had had in a long time. He leaned on the back of the chair feeling the energy of the morning, like if he was the only one not feeling the heat and appreciating the very slow blow of wind from outside, pulling his bangs back— Thank you for waiting for me, let's start eating without further delay. 

— Thank you for the invitation— Said Jungwoo, quickly serving cake on his plate— To what do I owe the pleasure? 

— Well, you are a royal guest, nothing less and, sadly, yesterday you came to a busy palace. You don't know how sorry I am for not giving you a proper welcome into my house, I hope you can turn a blind eye on that as we start from zero, here.

— There's no need of pretending, it honors me that I was able to attend your coronation— said Jungwoo with a smirk, getting a first bite of cake— It was an interesting soiree, if you let me say.

— Isn't that a flower from our garden's lounge?— wondered Hendery, cutting the verbal trail of senseless worship between the aspirants to monarch, and pointing to Jungwoo's hair.

—Oh this?—The prince slowly drove his hand to the back of his braids, caressing the petals very lightly with the tips of his fingers, almost careful of not breaking it, giving a subtle look to the tallest of the pages waiting around the room all together. Lucas bit his tongue, more out of a shy impulse than fright, as the prince recited his explanation— I took a couple of things from your garden last night, since I couldn't help the very pleasant feeling, excuse me if I did wrong.

— Don't worry— muttered Lucas, making all the presents turn around to him, too. He cleared his throat quite immediately, and his eyes fluttered coming back to earth that his feet had abandoned for a couple of seconds to soar a palm higher— I mean, in the name of the Prince Xiaojun we all hope his majesty can feel comfortable and safe wandering around our home, of course. 

—Lucas is right— conceded Xiaojun with a satisfied smile, then continued to drink his coffee. He really was riding the after feeling of the coronation and the pride it have him— Make this your home.

— I will.

Not so much was his brother, younger by one single month, and sometimes, more swift-minded, despite his age. 

— And our hospitality will continue, just like now, until you solve with my brother your current interest that… again, what is about?

Xiaojun kicked him under the table, sending Hendery into a big smile of annoyance and a tilt of his head as he displayed the question under a very thin veil of innocence. It was so thin that both Yangyang and Lucas could see the dangerous possibility of hitting an offense.

But Jungwoo chuckled, never rushed on his actions, taking his time to sip his tea and swallow with calm before continuing.

— Well, as you said, I came here in the first place to  _ manage _ some issues. However, I didn't expect I would arrive at Xiaojun getting a crown. After all these years… —He breathed out— And I come  _ just in time. _

—Very prompt— said Hendery holding back a snarl.

Another kick under the table. 

— Huangheng, dear, why don't you eat some fruit?

— I don't like it so much.

— Just like your brother.

—  _ Our _ brother.

—I regret I didn't carry any proper gift to commemorate your special day, Xiaojun— Intervened Jungwoo, airly— Usually a coronation takes months of talks and people spread the news faster than that, but in such a case… I came with empty hands. You should have written me a letter… 

— I should have— said Xiaojun tip-toeing over the topic, stabbing Hendery with his eyes for putting it on the table— But…

— But you were caught between a rock and a hard place. I am a single child, but I must understand that losing a brother is hard… 

— You guess right.

—However, all of these events change things a little bit, we have new conditions, I believe. But as you can understand, Hendery, I won't like to ruin a beautiful and private morning event with political rigmarole. 

— I agree— Said Xiaojun, holding on the last rope that could take him out of that mess— I convened this date to spare a nice time, so let's do so.

— Yes, and this cake is excellent, prince— Said Jungwoo holding another small piece in his fork. If it's possible to believe, the morning event was still to reach some sharp turns driven by the witticisms of three princes managing their own interest in a closed room, from side to side. Following the example of Hendery's gentle gesture filling a cup of tea for his page that was now drinking it by the table's side, Jungwoo has angled his head back to look at who stood behind him— Do you want to try some, Lucas? 

The ment of his name had the same effect of a bucket of water thrown on your face while sleeping, and took him out of the state of semi-standby he had achieved through the complex conversation of his masters with him. 

He looked at Xiaojun, like if he could find on his face an answer to the mishmash tangling his heart, but, as expected, there was nothing to read. 

— It's your cake, majesty, enjoy it without minding me.

— Pfff— The prince puffed and walked to Lucas with the fork full of a deliciously looking mass of whipped cream and sponge. He raised the piece towards him with a crooked smile and a whisper— Not to be bold, but I enjoy better while minding you.

Lucas beamed, but his politeness and his reminding common sense made his hand take the spoon from Jungwoo in order to feed himself. 

— Thank you, majesty. And, indeed, very tasty.

— Better than yesterday's meringue?— He sounded out, with a movement of his lashes that Lucas almost could declare as bashful. 

Jungwoo was either too aware of the difference between his court and Ignis palace, embracing more active people; or too careless of it, forgetting that they were having breakfast with another four guests. And perhaps it wasn't the best place to discuss what had happened between the two of them, for a blink of an eye, the previous night on the garden's bench, but for Lucas who was already assuming they would never mention that sudden impulse again, it was a big step. 

But maybe… maybe that's what had changed. 

Sometimes Lucas would have fought against the tide, disown his feelings and let his stiff honor put an end to his elucubrations. And thinking back, it didn't end so well. He had been so convinced that he was doing himself a favour, than when his own sentiments broke through the cage- because yes, sooner or later they ended running wild- he was on a point of no return. 

When he had noticed, it was raining hard and the current was carrying him on a boat. Gods had blessed him with another chance this time, and he was starting to think he would let his heart flow in calm waters. 

Maybe fate had it for him that way. All things considered, as Phisis and Elthos, life had lights and shadows. 

If he was lying, he ignored it, the possibility of it. If he was lying… his voice was sweet enough to do it and still make his heart rumble. Ten did not lie a single time to him, and he still became his personal late night devil.

— I could bet money that nothing can taste better than yesterday's meringue. I'm glad I had a bite.

— So you didn't mind...— Lucas shook his head, and Jungwoo smiled at him. No one with a healthy mind would have said that smile was a lie. Lucas wouldn't have— It's a shame that there were any for breakfast, I don't know why, but I woke up thinking about them. Have you?

— Maybe I have. 

— Maybe?— He asked playfully as his lips curled around the rim of his tea cup and printed a very light pink stamp on the white porcelain. The page could almost feel the tingles there where they had landed before— And you told me you weren't trying to seduce me… let me say I am sincerely scared of how you can result when you do try on purpose.

—Don't accuse me, majesty— said Lucas cheerfully— If something, I would say the one who is trying to seduce someone here, it's you.

— Believe me, I am.

Lucas raised his eyebrows, barely believing what he had heard the prince confessing. 

Nonetheless, the prince of Ventum Anguis turned on his heels, still drinking tea from his cup and going to his page like if he had just asked Lucas for the time and not shared a striking heap of innuendoes. 


	12. Incendium.

Marriage. 

There would always be a debate over a topic like this, because some will use the term out of a heart drenched in love, while some others would play with the potential it had to exploit their interests. 

Some would call it a privilege, the dream of their lives… while for others it would be just ink and paper. 

But no, this last thing was not for Jaemin. The son of the Na family, a youngster that barely counted twenty springs, had an easy-loving soul. Is not like he had  _ always _ wanted to have a boyfriend or like his one and only dream was a ring on his finger and a settled lifestyle, but the idea of it had joined all his other needs just a 9th of April. 

Rain had been pouring all day. He was going home sheltering himself under an umbrella when he passed by the Sea's Expedition base of their capital. 

It was the first time he had seen Lee Jeno and the reason why he found his ruin. He didn’t know it yet, but the discreet exchange of glances became obvious with months. Then, it came the kind offers of a warm cup of chocolate after a long day and, laced to it, a big spoonful of feelings that Jaemin was happily collecting in a very special part of his heart. 

He befriended Jeno, and slowly grew by his side until they passed the line of awkward puberty and plunged into deeper issues, when the young master’s feelings revealed against everything else, and the tender moment precipitated between them, caught on their lips.

At that time, thinking about being officially committed to the general Jeno was an insane thing among this terrenal world. His parents had denied it to him more times that Jaemin would have liked to count, and even forbid their son to meet up with him. And although Jeno had been raised polite enough to respect their decision and try to push his lover away, Jaemin had a very inclined shoulder to find him at night, at places a young noble shouldn't frequent, to kiss him deep. He crossed several rules of Per Saxa's bourgeoisie's standards. 

However, being so stubborn worked out. 

Or maybe it was Jeno's very determinate purpose of being successful and deserving of his lovebird. 

One way or another, they had finally made their path to be together, hand in hand, looking out from the window of his parent's house. That was more than he could have ever asked for. His parent's acceptance, the stability of their wellbeing. Just a simple and clear, happy and sincere, relationship to share with his favorite sailor in the entire world. The one who had put that beautiful ring on his finger and was, at that exact moment, differing a lot from his navy uniform of the expedition. 

For Jaemin, it would be an important lie to say that the corsair uniform on Jeno didn't act as some sort of aphrodisiac, but his current suit was also very enticing. Blue vest, white cape and pants with the prettiest cut of sleeves Jaemin have seen him wearing. He looked fancy and important but, to be sincere, what was definitely driving Jaemin was the way in which Jeno's costume matched his blue dress. It was even more theatrical than his boyfriend's. It was a hard challenge, if there was something to say, but Jaemin had brought the final touch with his tulle sleeves and so many crystals and pearls, hanging from his vest, mimicking a starry night. 

It had to be like that, he was the host and he had to stand out between all the costumes of the night, all of them very dramatic and bold, as well. 

After all, that was the fun of organizing a masquerade. 

Indeed, matching in a less gentle shade, and almost more likely to make a statement, the couple formed by the two couturiers of the Wind Region was walking slow but steady towards the open doors of the Na house. 

It had been a while since they had been at Per Saxa, staying exactly in that villa, and the thought of how much things had changed from that night was overwhelming, for it could be another entire realm. 

A new circle of life, for Ten it felt like that. He had died in the Middle Sea, for the world he inhabited before. 

For the guegus of that party too. 

No one could tell it was him, because no one expected him or had met him before. The fact that the hosts had made it a masquerade was just a very kind excuse to make him able to attend with absolute safety. Jaemin clearly asked Jeno for it after he had given in and told him  _ a couple _ of details about that half true and half fantasy story that the cities' buzzing titled  _ The Ode of the Incendium _ . 

When they had gotten the written letter with that pretty lily stamp, Ten showed a lot of excitement to give a try to public socialization for the first time as his new self. Lee Ten, to short it. A bit later, the excitement morphed into doubt and fear. But finally he had made the trip back to attend the celebration, convinced of their gratitude towards Oficial Jeno for his always kind help. 

Taeyong was grateful that he decided to attend, because not only was he happy and bright for a night of unknown thrills, but he also looked… well, he looked like a hot mess, Taeyong was not the one to put it into more complicated words. Apparently, Ten in red was royal but Ten in pink was royally sensual. 

And yet, the youngest of them, who had never been particularly careful with his clothes, was marching with an amusing posture that, Taeyong knew, his only reason for it was not snagging the delicate lace he had made for his dear's sleeves. 

—There's nothing here to pluck your dress, you can move like a human being now.

—You made it for me.

—I technically didn't make it for you, I fixed it and made the lace— Commented Taeyong, very committed to make a point to pester Ten a little, pastime that he enjoyed since the first second of their relationship— And, to be fair, here you have me wearing a haori with your embroidery on the collar and hems of the sleeves, so please, get a pluck on the lace so I don't feel bad when I, very probably, stain your flowers with food.

—Dear, you are not used to dress up this much, but I assure you that you eat with perfect manners.

—Well, about me being used to all of this... I wanted to comment something to you, actually.

—Surprise me— said Ten as they pleasured themselves with the walkthrough across the front yard of the Na's house, with it's great fountain flowing and freshening the air around them, under the break of dawn of Per Saxa, just like all the other noblemen that followed the same way, lacing their arms with their couples, accompanying friends or family to the big party. 

—How…? What do I do? 

—Excuse me?— said Ten looking at him with a slight grin, unable to believe he was answering that question from Taeyong, specifically— How you do what?

— Act correctly in a party like this... look at all of these people, Tennie, there are people with bowties and all. 

—And notwithstanding that, you look indisputably better.

—Ten! I am serious— he protested as he fidgeted with the silver thread of the youngest's lace sleeves, his grin getting wider at how cute Taeyong got when he gently hesitated— This kind of guests are the people I work for, I don't have drinks with them. I don’t know how to act, I am uneducated for this.

—They don't know who you are, and believe me when I say they can't tell. Their world is a bubble of illusions and pretending, and you already have a ticket in just by the promise of an insider saying you belong. Taeyong, your manners are fine, your face is a luxury that, not even I have… don't you cling on inferiority because it's not there. You are so exquisite you could shade even the sun. 

—But…

—Tags blind them. At the end… I ripped mine off, didn't I?

—Oh...Thank you, love… I admit I feel very nervous right now. 

—Then let's play a game— Murmured the desert's boy, earning a curious look from Taeyong that shone from behind the beautiful rose gold fretwork of his mask. 

He reminded himself to thank sir Jaemin later for accidentally awarding him with that view, since his hair, silver blonde now, was ordered in a different way, parted and messy with some kind of wet look on it; and the mask added somewhat mysterious to his face. 

A true infatuation with the face of an angel. 

—A game of what? 

—Let's play the game of falling in love again.

With this sentence, Ten turned to look at his boyfriend, and he had, to say the least, become mute. Ten had said it earnestly, it was not a joke or a way to tease him, and Taeyong could see it perfectly in his face and the tone of his voice. 

Just like him, Ten had pushed his hair back, for the first time in forever, to let the metal curl upwards and adorn his temple with sinuous shapes. He was lovely from his face to the grip of his hand around the mercer's wrist, as they walked the last meters to the door, going up the stairs of the house that was already drenched on music and conversations. 

— What?

—You know, the key of a gentry party is nothing but to live in your very own fantasise. Everyone goes around, seeking for a way to fulfill their pleasures… that's how they have fun.

Taeyong finally came to a sincere smile of his pink lips, sinking Ten in the start of said game with a quick immediacy. That’s what he wanted, see Taeyong catch the clue of how to be despreocupate. Time hadn’t gone easy on him, at some moments of his life, but he knew he could make him loose and joyful for a night. That party wasn’t for himself only… it was for Taeyong.

—That's how you did it back then?— he said slyly— You went to your high range parties and seduced men?

— Are you playing already?— Sounded out Ten.

—Am I? 

Straight to the hit, his smile became a smirk. Ten could give himself a clap on his back, but that would have to wait as they finally crossed the threshold.

The last time Ten had entered the Na's villa he was reduced to shreds, sea salt and doubts, but this time around, he did not find horror. He had a great dress, he was holding on Taeyong and life tasted better. 

The inside of the salon was more luminous than he could remember, and people came in with dinner already in their stomachs, so the scene consisted only by people pouring that rice wine from the Garden's Region over it as a marinade. It all mixed with joyful conversations and people dancing around. It was so vibrant, like if all the colors of the rainbow exploded inside a room and splashed the presents, with shiny cups and bold outfits, dripping warm colors and vaporous textiles. 

Taeyong was feeling how, gradually, his skin became tingly, and his lungs softened with the shared cloud of happiness that floated above their heads. 

It was full of a rattling sound of shoes thumping on the tiles of the dancefloor and laughs, altogether making him feel like Ten had been right about what the tastes of the wealthy nobility were. His ignited emotions lead his forehead to brush on Ten's hair, with a sultry tilt, as he got his lips, shining with the glossing of cherry lip gloss, close to his ear.

—What now?

—I'll tell you what I am going to do— He replied, pushing him back playfully— I'll go find myself a cup of whatever they serve here. What are  _ you  _ going to do? 

The question hung in the air, like a bubble of soap, as Taeyong saw his couple turn on his heels with his big smile and make his way to find a table with a cup that waited for him. 

He stood right there, biting his lip like a kid left alone in a toy shop.

Ten chuckled under his breath, telling himself not to fall on the temptation of looking back to him and the mellow expression he probably had on. With his energy gathered he went to serve a drink just as he said, because, to be honest, he was thirsty from the long walk from the port to the Na’s house at the feet of the raising mountain. 

Selecting at random, he took one of the slim cups from the table and slurped, a bit too fast, the first two gulps of what tasted like a soft wine. He felt a chill running down his body as he swallowed the contain happily. 

— And to think this is how we met again— said a guest approaching Ten with a sure and elegant pace, taking him by surprise and making him turn at him, questioning his provenance— A man can never know what the Gods want to say with their whims.

Ten had to tilt his head and examine him for a split second, for he was wearing a mask like everyone else in the party. Simple and black, with a leather finish and sharp points, being the only accent of it the strings with beads that fell from it, behind his ears, and hung loose keeping the mask in place with their weight. It was a sbelt but also muscular man, as he could see the curve of his chest deepening between the open lapels of his dark blue velvet overcoat, since he wasn't wearing anything underneath except from his white pants ripped on the knees. Ten almost let his jaw drop seeing him wearing that, with a burgundy choker on his neck, bold as he never could have imagined he would see him.

—Captain Doyoung? 

— Majest…— he choked on his own word and bit his lip with a restrained gesture, all by himself— Ten, hello.

— Oh! What a great joy is to see you again!—The exclamation came with a hug that almost made Doyoung leap on his feet. He was not used to that level of springtynes, nor to Ten being deposed from every title that had made him, once, the heir of a throne. Thankfully for him, the couturier pulled back quickly and squinted his eyes with an inquisitive glance— I trust you to keep me the secret, Captain, this took me a little too much of effort to achieve and I don’t want it to be wasted.

— I can imagine— he said, concise but perfectly clear in the fact that his mouth would be shut. His eyes traveled across the crowd, searching for something until they settled on Taeyong, far, over a zone that the house staff prepared to rest sitting on coaches, while he spoke to an outstandingly beautiful woman who was optimistic enough to think he would lean on the female gender in any of his lifes. Ten admired him from the distance, rejoicing in the beautiful look he had on with blonde hair and a pink jacket that made the color of his lips pop out more— So you two really are… a  _ thing?  _ Lord Taeil bet seven coins that you weren't into him, I see that John will be winning him money for once.

Ten wished his very prominent eyebrow lift was visible behind his mask, because that sarcastic move was the only thing left in front of that remark.

—Seven coins to me not being interested? Bold move— he said as the confirmation reply for the sailor, weighing the fact that he would have to be outing their relationship in some way sooner or later but unaware of how to execute the gesture. Is not like he could be around telling Johnny to shout it at the top of his lungs in the middle of a built society but he wasn't shy about his feelings for Taeyong— You should have bet something too.

—I did— Doyoung smirked— Four coins to Lord Taeyong being the one rejecting you.

—You ignore my charms,  _ Doyoung. _

—Yes, and now that we stay in the same lane, let me tell you that I'm glad I do.

—Ha!— exclaimed Ten with a sarcastic but still amused guffaw. As teasing as the captain was being, it was refreshing to hear it on his face. Of course he had known Doyoung was not the best at keeping up with him, but he was a friend, a source of loyalty and a kind man. He wouldn't change him despite all the punctures he could attempt on his skin— Let's leave behind the love life talks, since you don't have many things to share. How is job going? Do you have a new ship to pilot? 

— Well, the season is hard, I'm trying to get back to work. I'm looking for a new vessel that can fit my needs… the Lily was the love of my heart, a very majestic ship that I cherished but now is only wood spread on the sea. 

—I'm sorry, Doyoung— murmured Ten, more regretful than the captain could imagine. 

Up to that day, Ten felt that night like one of the biggest faults he could carry. It still felt like all of his acts were wrong.

—Don't worry. Anywise, the sea has been agitated these days. It's been very windy… it doesn't feel like a good omen.

—Even for a corsair?— said Ten with a grin, but he knew Doyoung was talking serious.

—Yes, even a corsair wouldn't mind staying on land with these sudden turns of wind— he made a small pause, then he continued— Being honest, Ten, I always thought your mind was full of air, but I'm going to have to give this to you. This comes and goes are very unusual to see, is almost like...

—Like? 

—An old wives' tale coming back to life— Murmured Doyoung— And sounding through the bamboo forests.

—Once an enthusiastic of windbreakers, always an enthusiastic— Ten turned around to the voice of General Jeno. It was a shock to see him again, but especially while he was wearing that lavish outfit. Jaemin things were sticking to him more and more, and he was flaunting a baroque mask of white and gold. He looked great, however. Ten could swear, even, than Jeno was taller than the last time he saw him, and his face sharper. He was very handsome, and would charm anyone with a smile and some words, like a living invitation to fall for the wonders of love— Ten, always looking upon the wind. I guess that seeing you like this makes me know the reason why.

— Lord Jeno!

—Greetings, sirs— said the youngest with a smile, giving Ten a gentle gesture of his head and leaving the etiquette aside to just high five his captain and brother— And thank you for coming to our party. There are no hyungs I would like here more than you two and… where is Lord Taeyong?

—He is figuring out how to move the gears of a party like this. If you excuse me, I’m going to get him. I’m beyond glad to meet you here, I’ll come back to you later with him.

—Please, do— added Jeno with a smile, as the captain Doyoung just rolled his eyes for the lengthy politeness and shipped on his soju— I would like to tell you about many things, so don’t doubt in joining us, _ Ten. _

He nodded and left the group, strolling around the dancefloor with leisure as he approached the lounge zone of the big salon. 

Getting a grip of Taeyong between the presents in the ballroom was far more amusing than last time, just with the grimace that distorted the face of the girl who was conversing with him when Ten held his waist on his fingers from behind and blew his words for him, probably provoking an unique face of thrill on his secret love. 

—What would take a man like you to accept an invitation to dance?

The woman looked at both of them in disbelief, especially in sight of Taeyong’s sweet smile a second before he angled his face to see him. 

As if they weren’t wearing a perfectly synchronized set of costumes, thought Ten to himself.

—Not as much as you think it would.

—Then you come on with me, dear— he said, pushing from his hand to the dancefloor, leaving the woman behind and making things repeat once more, in a totally different way— Excuse me, ma'am, but I have to steal him.

His heart was alight, and his eyes had the sparkle of a joy that never enjoyed at Ignis. Indoors there’s no light that comes in to reflect in his pupils.

When he started dancing, the song was halfways, but he didn’t care and nor did Taeyong who, with a softened appearance couldn’t detach the smile from his lips. He didn’t care if the swinging of the pink gown around Ten’s feet got in the way, he was just floating in his own infatuation, just like Ten said, caring only about himself, for a change. 

In the middle of a fog of dresses and tulles, he wrapped his arms around his waist and dragged him closer, now that the chance to touch Ten and act as he was all his. The way he felt when they two lived up to the day together was hard to describe, no one could put it in a painting, in a song or in written paper, because it escaped the limits of the art. Taeyong, in those moments, felt like they both were timeless. 

After the song, it followed another one, and a few more. 

Taeyong let out a long breath, one of those that were not so common when they first met. It was calm and warm, meant to fit perfectly in Ten's heart, comfortably like it belonged there.

—Is this what you meant when you said we could fall in love again? 

His voice was always sweet towards him, and his hands felt like hot chocolate coating a waffle as they traveled down to his hips. It wasn't scary to get so close, anymore. They didn't need a storm to rain on them and their lips turning purple to make them lace their arms around each other.

— This brings me a lot of memories— muttered Ten, letting the question unresolved, as they danced on the middle of the salon. At least this time he wasn't a target of looks and murmurs, and he felt once and for all that he was holding onto something stable to deposit his whole world on— This salon, this house.

— Good or bad?

—Good, for the most part but both. You know?— Ten made a long pause, thinking about the things that were keeping his heart at edge that evening. Then, a thread of voice completed the sentence— I really thought that I was losing you that night, for the rest of my life.

Taeyong tilted his head with a smile, his eyes examinating all the details on Ten's face. Even though he was wearing a mask, he already memorized everything that was underneath it, all the features and curves. They had been like that once, reading through a coat of protocol and mannerisms that were thicker than a metallic mask, but that was over for them. They had come a long way together.

— But you didn't, right?

—No. That's the greatest part of the memories I have from here, when you kissed me like… —Ten pursed his lips, his eyes getting lost on the dark of Taeyong's, not knowing how to phrase it anymore, slowly leaning closer on him to kiss him so tenderly that Taeyong had to stop dancing, closing the hug around his waist to pull him against his chest. His eyes fell closed with the lull of Ten's hand brushing up to his face to hold him, and the warm touch of his breath fanning on his face when he stopped, for a moment to look at him when he parted. It still made him as distracted as the first time— Like that.

—Like if the world didn't exist and there was only you and me left?— completed Taeyong, making Ten's eyes get a bit wider than usual, with a shine of thrill on them.

—Was like that for you? 

—For me? It was freeing— he said, pulling languidly from his hands to resume their dance— If I have to be completely sincere, Ten, there were so many things in the way that even admit it for myself was a hardship, so when I gave in and kissed you it felt like I let down all the weight.

—I know, I am sorry that I had to put you through all of that. You deserve someone that can be easier to love— Ten smiled for him, a moment before the couturier looked up at the ceiling and enjoyed some seconds of the dance in silence. He still had the most red lips that Taeyong had ever lost an exhale over. Watching above his head, the big chandelier of Jaemin's house was entirely lit with the same luxury of the last time he danced under it—Taeyong, are you crying?

Taeyong shook his head in denial, then buried his face on Ten's shoulder, thanking the Gods for making him just a tad taller than his boyfriend, so he could still do that before the liquid glass of his eyes plunged.

—I'm not— He whined with the sound muffled on Ten's shoulder, which made the later chuckle a bit and wrap his arms around him, gently pressing a kiss on his blonde hair. 

Deep down, seeing him cry made him panic with the fear that there was something that was paining him. 

—Don't worry, dear, boys cry too— He teased— Even when they hide the tears on his lover's shoulder because they are so very soft inside. So lovable. But, come on, just tell me what's wrong.

—I don't want you to think it was hard falling for you— He murmured, making Ten the one to stop on his track this time. 

He knew Taeyong was, indeed, soft hearted, but it was not easy for him to put it into words often, he was learning with time. Taeyong had a big pride, and a torn that made him bury his weaknesses, nailed in his heart.

At first, Ten did not understand what made him avoid his tender side so eagerly but then, he overheard the rumors of it. Maybe he had no waiting-maids around anymore, but the sound of gossip is not exclusive of a court, every person with a mouth has the chance to shoot an unrequited opinion. 

The afternoon he got to understand everything clearly, he had closed the logbook of the store with a specially dry movement and looked at the woman he had in front of the counter with a dead serious expression. 

Ten was, for the most part, an easygoing man, but if there was something to name with which he wasn't permissive at all, those were nobles with a spectacular verbal incontinence. __

_ "We are full for this week, ma'am, I recommend you to go find someone else to do those sleeves" _

When he pronounced that sentence, he had looked at Taeyong, and found that he was staring right back, from their back shop where he was sewing. 

If he heard him rejecting that request, Ten knew, he perfectly heard the woman's very indiscreet clarification to her friend about how thrilling it was to have a dress done with the touch of the boy who, once, infuriated the prince Jungwoo so much that got  _ exiled _ for six years. Six years. It had made Ten swallow sharply, feeling a solid realization of why Taeyong was always treading so carefully, so far from letting people see through his heart.

_ "Oh, but that would be so burdensome" _ she said, sounding polite enough to catch the way she was totally unapologetic of her own mistakes  _ "Can't you squeeze me in? It's a very special job that I want for this dress. You see, my daughter is getting engaged and this workshop has the most detailed flower motifs of the region..." _

_ "Too bad" _ said Ten with a click of his tongue. His voice taking the same turn, very unapologetic, about to have a real reason to be looked down at  _ "I am so sorry your thrill is over, ma'am, but you have to go home. Again, sorry, I know how irking must be to mind one's own business"  _

— It was easy— continued Taeyong— It's easier each day that passes, when I wake up and I see you in my bed and I feel like I have fallen an inch deeper than the day prior. Ten, I have lived long, traveled for some time, heard stories enough to know that what we have is not going to happen again with another person. If I had let you go that night… I would have missed all of it… 

Ten sighed, his head resting on the soft hair of his Taeyong with all the sentiment that burst inside his heart. It was thumping so loud that it could be a fawn galloping through the forest. 

—I'm glad you did. The truth is that I was feeling all at once, when you did it. I had so many problems that I had built myself, like my own castle to live in… and all that I could think, instead of solving them, was you— he said  _ almost _ with regret— Is not like I was expecting you to solve them for me or fix my life magically, is only that it all suddenly came to my mind, organized. What I wanted to be, how I wanted to live… I was seeing it all in perspective.

—And how do you want to live? What's your vision of it?

—I thought that I didn't want to participate in a system that made something as great as loving you into a shame— The brush of Taeyong's lashes on his neck made Ten know he had closed his eyes, right before he snuggled on him and smiled, sincerely happy right at that moment — I want to return to our house when the party is over and live with you, eat the food you make and work in the workshop. This is it. I don't need to fall for you again. There's not a moment when I have stopped falling.

—Stop it, we are being so corny— laughed the eldest, pushing him softly from his shoulder— Almost like those two right there.

Ten looked to the place where Taeyong had gestured with his chin, immediately catching the scene he was referring. 

Of course, Jaemin was endlessly ranting about nothing in particular, holding inside his enchantment a very committed Jeno whose eyes could spell the word "besotted" to anyone. Both couturiers were unaware of the very long story they carried on their backs, but there was no need of that context to read the sentiment of their gestures, being those like if the boys breathed each other's air. The general Jeno was trying to help his fiancé, gathering the long lenght of his blue dress and holding up a side as they joined the dancefloor too. 

They didn’t have a remedy.

— Taeyong— Called the desert's boy in a whisper, making his lover turn to see him. There was something unknown on the shadow of his face, for he was trying to voice a question he had been ruminating in his head for some time— There's something I never asked you… 

— Yes? And what is that, love? 

— It was on purpose?— He murmured. Taeyong's eyes were deep into his golden irises— Tell me… did you… did you jump off the lily after me on purpose? 

Taeyong scoffed running a hand on his cheek with endearment, moving up until he could reach the edge of the mask's lace, pulling from it slowly and making it fall, without rush, between them. 

—That would have been madness— nonetheless, he smiled— But my whole life bases on that precept, so you can tell what my pick was. We had a sewing lesson started.

Ten brushed with his thumb the blue and pink flowers that were messily embroidered on his collar, slowly. A nobility’s pleasure would never compare with what he had inside now.

He smiled back at Taeyong.

—Yes, we had. 

He was about to lean on him again to kiss him and catch the Na’s ballroom on fire, but he decided to save it for laster when every assistant to the party exclaimed a tender “ooh”, and the sign inside the two couturiers’ mind rang for empathy, letting aside the feeling of being the protagonists and getting a jab of soft affection, looking at Jaemin and Jeno about to kiss in the middle of  _ their _ salon. 

The corners of Jaemin’s lips curled up with an adorable smile, pretty close to Jeno’s mouth, in a way that made the sailor _ feel  _ it rather than see it.

It was the 9th of November, the cold had started even in Per Saxa, and the snow was starting to fall outside. 

The young master had a special smile on him, inefable, just like Jeno liked him to be, since the day they met to the hit of five years and seven months together that counted that night. 

No one saw it coming, not even Jeno himself. 

When he made Jaemin spin on his feet again to the last beats of the song they were dancing, and Jeno theatrically leaned him back like a professional dancer. The son of the Na’s family, in his own house, lifted the golden mask that was getting on his way to say the things he wanted with his face brought into the open.

— Jeno, marry me.

—Yes, we already said we will.

—No— he beamed— Marry me like… in a month. I can’t wait any more, just marry me. 

Oh, weddings. 

Aren’t they lovable? 

— Do you miss the palace?

Ten replied to the question with a bitter laugh before turning to face Taeyong again, as the lovable couple of young boys started to make out at the middle of the salon making accountant of the times when they had to hold back. He shook his head preceding his own words.

— Why would I? This thing you have seen just now is only a game for you and me, and only resembles palace life in aesthetic... you like me opulent to give me your love, your real and honest love, and that it's great, I can consent and enjoy; but love where I come from is just a lie to make a way into my pocket, or my underwear... so allow me to refuse.

The eldest smiled dimly to his lover and kissed his lips sweetly in a gesture of understanding, but he still had the impulse to tell him what his brain was ruminating.

— I am sorry, I'm getting used to having you around and still sometimes it scares me that I'm not

enough for you— Ten hugged him joyfully without knowing the rest of the sentence would turn from romantic to make him frown deeply— You know... Lucas told me I was just a caprice for you.

—He said what now?— he asked with that something on his tone that peeked up under the gentleness, pricking, his eyes shot open and his body reacting— He... he can't state what my heart feels, Taeyong.

— I guess that was part of his problem— said Taeyong with a grimace, remembering how Lucas spat venom when pronouncing his confession for Taeyong in that house as well, letting him confirm that he couldn't detach the young noble from his brain either— But sometimes his words haunt me still and it...worries me.

— Please, don't— he said powerfully, not needing his dress to sound irrefutable— You know me, don't you? That you are beautiful without precedent it's an enormous truth, and so it is the fact that you feel amazing when you touch me, but a caprice? For a whim I'm not so full of myself to leave home... For an idle fancy I won't deshinerate myself. And believe me when I say that for you... I would do everything again, a thousand times more.

— You are mad at me?— asked Taeyong, but it was enough to see Ten's expression to know the answer was negative and make him chuckle slightly.

— I'm mad at stupid Lucas. As you can guess, I had no idea that he told you so. It clearly was not his best night, Gods, this air doesn't seem to make him well.

Another silent pause, populated this time with gentle caresses like feathers, the back of the youngest's hand pampering his beloved with dozens of gestures.

— What about him? Do you miss him?

Ten tilted his head to the side and scrunched his nose.

— Evidently, I do. He was my best friend. But at the same time, if I had him in front of me right now, I would probably kick his undisciplined guts. What is that, talking you down? The idiot...

— Well, I guess I deserved it— said Taeyong playing with his new blonde hair that made him look much more like an angel, earning an indecipherable glance from Ten that demanded further explanation— To be fair I would be quite a frostbite if it happened backwards and he was the one to go to bed with you tonight. Impressive enough that he maintained his sanity while you played around with those...

Said Taeyong pointing clearly to the pink sateen opening on his chest and letting his skin be seen. Ten rolled his eyes and chuckled.

— Hendery thought... that Lucas was in love with me.

The eldest nodded to that, implying silently all what Ten questioned in a second. Then, the latter sighed and cuddled on the small of Taeyong's body resting there. It was the most comfortable place in the world, the safest of them all. One spot he would never ever want to give up, as he said, at all cost.

— I hope he is fine... I really hope he is fine. But you know who is the person that makes me lovesick and melts my heart?

— Who?— replied the couturier with an obvious smile waiting for the melodic mention of his voice as the other wrapped around his body.

— The most stubborn person of this room.


	13. White Dragon

Timeless, it seemed to Lucas that minutes were no longer minutes, that they changed the amount of time needed to make the clock tick. 

The previous day had been calm, too calm for his taste. Used to work with a prince that was all nerve and wreaking energy, Xiaojun was a frozen hourglass, and after breakfast and it’s shocking outcomes, the page was left into a bubble of longing. 

He tried to make time flow faster using the taps of his shoes on the floor as ticking clock needles, walking to the garden holding his breath. 

It had been a daring move, but what is life without risk. 

He passed the last hallway, covered in windows that already let him see the splash of fresh green that some masterminded architect had put up, together with a gardener, in the middle of a hellfire weather from the desertic region of Ignis. It was a fancy garden, it hadn’t changed from night to day, each petal and each leaf was elegantly placed there almost like measured with a ruler. 

Lucas always had been fascinated about how much order could be in that garden, it was nature, for Gods’ sake, not embroidered tapestry, how could everything be so ecstatic. 

But if one thing was new, if one feeling flickered in his chest with a different sound, that was his reason to be opening the double door, ominously, to pass through it.

The beautiful wanderer of Ignis’ garden looked up from the pages of a book and angled his head to look at the newcomer, his platinum locks moving onto his eyes with the gracious tilt of his head.

— Look at all that light coming through the window breaks… the sun of the East— cooed Jungwoo musically and still unnoticed, as Lucas came through the door that separated the garden from the inner quarters, making his paused way towards the place where the prince was resting, meters away. 

He was sitting on the same couch as he saw him the night of the coronation, his feet over the armrest again, his slippers hanging loose, clearly visible due to the cut of his tight white pants. Junwoo seemed to discover the insistent sun of Ignis, resigning to the fresher sets of clothes laying on his luggage, so he was wearing a shirt of transparent shapes with a white net pattern, a lot of flower lace climbing the front of his chest and sleeves. 

He wasn’t wearing a crown that day, his blonde hair, parted in the middle, flowed naturally, streaming down his face. 

That beautiful face.

—Good morning, majesty, I hope you are having a pleasant morning.

—The quality has increased just now— he hinted.

—Interesting coincidence— replied Lucas, witty without thinking twice about it— Mine's too.

—Oh...White suits you so good— numbled Jungwoo with his lips curling up. He approached the page, as it he was barely holding it together, letting his deep wishes drag him to him. His hand, a very smooth and sculpted hand, traveled lightly to his shoulder and stroked down on his arm, caressing the, indeed, light-colored material of his outfit, triggering Lucas towards all the edging sensations his mind was containing— Against your dark skin it pleases the eyes, it makes you so beautiful. But I don't think that’s a lot of challenge for the color itself. What brings you here, surprising my secrets in such a way?

Lucas reminded himself his feet were on the ground and his hands held a silver tray between them, for he needed a moment after listening to the prince trailing all those words for him. He made a gesture to indicate the cup that he was carrying, with a smile.

— I got your tea, as you ordered it from the maids.

— Oh, thank you— Jungwoo took the lovely cup and went back to the armchair where he was reading, propped against a bunch of cushions and under the anemones once more.

Lucas, trying not to be too mindful of his particular situation with the prince, went to leave the tray with its plate on a small table that the maids had prepared for the guest in front of the seats, but it required a high concentration, because Jungwoo looked like a painting. A pleasing, calm and alluring painting. 

It would be a pity, Lucas thought, to be in a gallery and look at the floor tiles instead of the art of the walls. Such thing is offensive to the viewer, rejecting bliss to himself and so he stared at him again. 

— I believe you were expecting Lord Renjun to come, but he seems to be adapting to Ignis weather lately, and Lord Yangyang proposed him to approach the stream with him and Hendery. I thought he looked like he wanted to give a try to stand under the sun, so I offered him my help taking care of you in his behalf, I hope that's not an inconvenience, majesty.

—An inconvenience?— scoffed Jungwoo sarcastically, closing his book to pay attention to the page accommodating a bowl with cut mango and a plate of cookies on the table. On the hard cover of it, the title read something about Ignis’ feedstocks that Lucas couldn’t care less about while looking at his particular masterpiece. The strokes on his eyelids were particularly pretty and shiny that day, with golden shines— Or maybe just a strike of luck? 

—I'll let you decide that— Oh, that sounded beyond succulent to Jungwoo, the intonation Lucas used for that innuendo was a bit raspier than his already low tone, and it ended in a curled smile and a drop of his lashes, the manners of a seductive noble in the act of it. There was a sound of white material grazing against itself as Jungwoo shifted slightly on the coach— And, to be clear, now I am being seductive on purpose.

—Ah...— he made that sound so breathy and appealing that Lucas’ felt his stomach flip over. However, the prince bent his knees on the couch and patted the empty seat that formed, so Lucas could take the hint and seat down, which he did with ease, moving into Jungwoo’s personal space with just the right look of heat in his eyes, the right amount to draw him closer without touching him at all or asking with words. Lucas wasn’t an idiot, and he could see that a man with a vanity like Jungwoo’s was dangerous if he realizes the power he has over you— Lucas, do you like music?

—That question is difficult, majesty.

—You know why my parents gave me a name?

—Why could it be, majesty? I don't know.

—For you to call it—Lucas, seating over there on the grass organizing the tea table, snapped his face up to him immediately. On his face there wasn't a trace of amusement, not the tone of humor he would have if he was, by chance, joking— Call my name, would you? 

—If you insist, of course I would love to call you Jungwoo.

—Fantastic— he said with a smile, then he took his previous question back— So why is it a difficult question if you like music?

—I don’t think there’s anyone in this world that dislikes music, seems very unusual to me if someone says so. Music is an universal language, and somehow a device that helps feelings move so they don’t paralyse and rotten… that was a long rant— chuckled Lucas, embarrassed, thought his companion didn’t seem to be bored at all— Summarizing, I like music, why? 

—I wonder if you know the ballad called  _ Three Dragons Story. _

Lucas pulled a face. 

He had the feeling that it was not so long since he had heard it being sung, but he didn’t know when. That song, he liked to hear it while drinking or being happy, since it sounded upbeat and harmonious. For cords instruments, preferably, it was a gracious tune to sing. 

— The one that goes “ _ White scales, lemon tree; my heart of gold is now at a huge ease; can’t you see? Since I sighted you in the sky, have passed the days of grief; can anyone sing, like this, the love you have for me? _ ”

—The Seventh Act, right?— smiled Jungwoo, identifying the verses with something in his eyes shining differently. Lucas felt so drawn to him, magnetically, trying to know whether he found lovely that Lucas seemed to be the kind of drunk that claps hands and dances around by himself with his lips painted red from liquor, or if it was beholden melancholy, or even could it be a sense of affection for the page’s singing voice— It’s the most famous part, I think it’s because it’s easy to dance to it.

—Or because it’s a happy episode— argued Lucas, chewing on a cookie that he had the dare to steal from Jungwoo’s plate— Out of nine episodes, everyone likes the Seventh Act the most, the others are not so popular, by far. There’s  _ Dragon’s Birth _ , _ Dragon’s touch the earth and sea _ , _ Uprising of the Golden Dragon _ , _ Black Dragon’s mystery _ , _ Black Dragon’s loss _ , _ King of Nowhere _ ,  _ Break the Wind _ , _ White Dragon’s romance  _ and _ Last time I see. _ Damn, the final episode always makes me c...ry.

The last of his words lost the strength, because the page himself, have started leaning on Jungwoo, and looking into his eyes was an effective formula to make him lose the thread of vacuous conversation in favor of something  _ real _ . 

His heart felt light, and his preconceptions far, the world he inhabited was now coloring with a silver tone that made the sun shine. He would have liked to keep the forms, would have been glad to deny all the things he had spoken, but the clear bells of Junwoo’s laugh was enough to say goodbye to compliances. 

What was a nation compared to the person he had in front of him, looking beyond the dark color of the page’s eyes? What was an army, or five galleons, or gold… compared to Jungwoo?

He ignored how nervous he was, his brain wasn’t interested in such negligible factor but in the image of Jungwoo’s eyes closing so slowly delicate before Lucas kissed him, feeling warmth between them, inhaling his breath in a way that made him brush his lip with his tongue so the prince would part them. Another breathy sound, that shook Lucas even more, got to his ears in the middle of that soft act, preceding the passion stroke that hit Jungwoo to wrap his arms around Lucas, seeking the excessively temperate halo of his person. 

His eyes opened slowly, finding that Jungwoo had a tiny tint of rose over his cheeks. He chuckled, as he wanted to think it was only the weather of Ignis’ mean dessert and not the effect of his impulsive love. But it was hard to convince himself, more and more, for the look Jungwoo gave him made more than clear that they were about to kiss again within less than five seconds. With every kiss, he felt a bit more alive and a bit more sensitive, going high with the taste of the prince on his lips while goosebumps had his skin all over. 

Is not like he felt the thumping of his heart but also the beating of Jungwoo’s, so close to him that the vibration passed through. 

He pulled back, leaving Jungwoo waiting for something else and with his lips plumper than usual, in order to not go insane too fast. With him, he didn’t want to do the fast doing, he really preferred a calm sightseeing, almost as if that was possible with a prince. 

He forgot, he totally forgot that Jungwoo was  _ also _ a prince. A crown prince, for more injury, legit heir of Ventus Anguis’ throne to master the West region and the best alignment of sailors and fishers. 

The world was complicated. 

—If I suddenly decided to tell you the words that usually go here when this kind of situation happens between… between two people that have it easier— began Jungwoo, searching Lucas’ warm hand and lacing their fingers— Would you believe me or would you make me swear it?

Lucas licked his lips, trying to think about the question in the middle of the rush of his adrenaline that wouldn’t let him focus in anything else than the kiss, and the previous kiss, and the anemones of the garden. He knew that things had to be that way...

—Which answer is easier? 

—I don’t know, I just… know that whatever you say it’s not going to make me change.

—I also hold you dear, Junwoo— tackled Lucas, never so sure of wording a feeling in his worn-out heart. He was tired of pretending every move he made in front of people, he knew himself best to affirm that he was like that, impulsive, affectionate, and regretful of the several years he had lived like someone else. As well, Jungwoo seemed to be very- amply, to describe it best- astounded for the answer that he had never expected from someone so careful as Lucas seemed to be— I’m not going to swear it, I’m not going to make you swear for me… promises are so volatile, go away fast, don’t last longer than a breath. You know what the truth is. 

—Then what?— said Jungwoo surrendering to a smile— Should I go, everytime, to you so I can remind you with actions better than words? You are smart, are you unaware of how much of a dangerous move that is? Don’t you see, the more I give you the more I want to have? I am like that. I would want to take all that I can get from you… Here in this garden I almost want to tell you… to supplicate that you give up your efforts and leave.

— Stop overthinking it, and tell me something, you want me in that way?

—In all the ways— said Jungwoo softly, he closed his eyes and pressed his lips together, almost appearing like it slipped off his tongue— In all the goddamn ways.

Because he had his eyes closed, he jolted when Lucas put his lips on his neck with a sublime brush and a sigh, going up to his cheek. 

Jungwoo’s eyes opened halfway, turning his face to Lucas so their lips touched again. 

It didn’t matter if they had decided to kiss for hours straight or just go on-and-off like that, Jungwoo  ruled him, put his heart at ease, lured him back with his breath, and made every kiss they shared different so he would never have to be tired of trying. He was glad to get the swish from Jungwoo as his hand pressed on his chest and pulled him back with a moist sound when they separated.

— Stop, Lucas.

— Hmm? — hummed Lucas still in a trance— Yes?

— I distrust myself about stopping caressing you in a lifetime if you go on — The garden lit up, for Lucas beamed so wide that he feared it may reach the prince and pages in the stream and blind them. The prince Jungwoo could see the white teeth of Lucas smile, lining to form an adorable, immaculate and flawless smile. He got up, almost tripping on his loose slippers, and brushing his blonde hair back down to order it after the careless abandonment to passion that had make it tangle, he took his book to his chest and gave him a tilt of his head indicating that he was going — The meeting with the council is this evening at seven. 

— I’m aware — cooed Lucas, knowing perfectly well his schedules, dued that day to help Xiaojun prepare for the reunion, walking him there with Sichen’s guard, and stay with Xiaojun until he gave him the right to leave. 

Council meetings were a disgrace, but at least this time he could space out looking at Jungwoo and not simply counting the volutes of the columns’ capitals. 

— Then you understand I have to be excused, dear, I have to prepare. Lots of things are expected from my etiquette.

— Farewell. Your absence is going to feel long for me.

— I regret summoning that reunion now, parting from you is my greatest frustration.

— Where were you all my life? — said Lucas, softly. 

He couldn’t help it, his heart felt too much in a moment like that that his tongue was just bounded to verbalize it.

— Alone.

— I relate… 

Jungwoo turned on his heels, pushing the doors open and going away swiftly, yet leaving a burning inside his heart that was encouraged by the wind of Ventum Anguis. 

The world wasn’t easy, but people had their own angles and points of view to lessen the burden. 


	14. Last time I see

Although he walked in worried, his steps were confident and grounded. Around him it floated a certain something that guided his steady feet, maybe having a little too much to do with how he was going to look at him again. 

Jungwoo had asked for a delay of the council meeting, arising the displeasure of the high-range assistants for an imminent change of schedules regardless of the fragile situation of Ignis stretching to reach further levels. 

However, no one says no to a king-in-waiting, specially if you want to preserve your vitality, and the meeting shifted from Monday at seven to Tuesday at midday. 

When Renjun passed the news to Prince Xiaojun, Lucas could have died flat on top of the desk where they both were writing documents, just for a piece of information, to be able to ask why did he do it, or if he was sick. But that was not his place, and knowing about his commitment to an affair of those characteristics, he would be better quiet than risking everything to just the roll of a dice. 

Monday morning was apparently tasteless.

Xiaojun woke up and had breakfast, and then went back to documents until the clock hit nine o'clock and Lucas started pushing brooches on his hair and handing him an endless parade of robes he could choose from. 

He was less chatty than Ten and, for sure, more focused. Lucas could have been one hundred times more entertained doing the same exact routine with Ten, but at the end, that cheerfulness that didn't quite match with bureaucracy was his reason to be absent, so there was no space to chew in that useless thought. 

Anyways, the apparent dullness of the first hours of his Monday was drowned easily by the revitalized heart of Lucas, pumped up enough to find a council meeting appealing, fooling himself to believe that his emotion was due to the thrills of Xiaojun being in charge for the first time. 

There he was, shoulder by shoulder with Sicheng, moving towards the meeting room with the round table, ahead of Xiaojun to guarantee his protection. 

Well, them and the squad of four royal guards that were behind him. It was a coercitive method, to avoid any arising physical conflicts in those kinds of meetings, where tension was sometimes… into the agenda. 

General Dong seemed to be recovering the light of his face, going back to his fully loaded handsomeness, for his profile was marked and lovely, and the traces of his fight back in the coronation day were fading away. He wore a different uniform, softer and more elegant, for the issues that occupied them that day, but still light enough to move fast like a thunderbolt. 

As for Lucas, he still wanted to fool himself saying out loud that the thing that drove him to wear that set of pants and jacket, considered the most flattering outfit of his closet, was the importance of the inauguration of Xiaojun's decision maker career. The fact that he had a bare chest under the open jacket was, as he worded it, a vicissitude of Ignis dry weather. 

Sicheng didn't buy that one. He had seen Xuxi, fully clothed, running under Ignis' heat without losing a beat of his breath, and now he was all about that "Ignis mean heat" when the wind blew colder than ever in their region. The night prior it had even rained. It really poured outside like it was no-so-common to see around the region. They were still in the monsoon season, coming late that year for what it seemed. 

Sicheng leaned his back on a column and crossed his arms, just like he always did when he was required over political encounters. It was his pose of “don’t possibly come at me with your political bullshit”. 

Lucas took his time, holding Xiaojun's hand as he helped him sit on his place at the front of the table where all participants had arrived. 

Present, there were all the top ranges of the important trade unions, or to say it faster, the unions that owned the money. As well, the army's captain, the marine's captain and the current spokesman of the Expedition that was assigned to Ignis' ports and duties. And escalating in social range, the treasurer, the priests that came from Per Saxa, only with the right to veto on laws for they were not ruling at the nation; Ignis upcoming abbot, Haechan. Then, the royal infante, Hendery, accompanied by Yangyan. This last one only with symbolic purposes more than useful interventions, like Lucas himself. As for the chair that was still asking to be filled, it carried the name of prince Jungwoo, together with Renjun. Last but not least Yuta, the General of his army, and Mark, the counselor of the Kim's royal family from who people said he was an advocate of handling things without sugar coating them.

Lucas retired to the side, as it was the etiquette, as soon as Xiaojun was comfortable. 

Sicheng gave him a furtive look, trying to disguise his smirk under a shadow of boredom.

—Are we going to celebrate after this hell hole?— he chuckled, owning a disappointed look from the page that didn't enjoy that much from the teasing of the soldier. Not when it was true that he had dressed up. Not when the situation was fragile and the other person involved in that racket was… well...

_ Him _ . 

When he entered, Lucas could barely believe himself. 

Even the way he walked was a gift for the eyes, and he felt an interesting and new alarming urge sparkling in his blood. The creamy silk of the white gown he was wearing slipped down his shoulders, peppering his body with sensuality, and a line of jewels climbed his chest and wrapped around his neck. By impulse, Lucas felt envious of it. His blonde hair still fell tranquil on his forehead and framed his face of puffy cheeks and gentle-shaped lips; but this time he put on the crown that reminded him to loosen up a bit and pretend he wasn't having a stroke. It was hard, to say the least, because Lucas could still notice the silver hairpins that were holding the back of his hair, shaped like anemones, replacing the real ones that could easily get spoiled from using them on his hair too much. 

Not that Lucas had a lot of time to take pleasure in that daydream Jungwoo was, because when the prince sat down around the council table, he came back to his senses and remembered that the world was not all about him and Jungwoo.

In fact, in the moment that occupied him, things were  _ everything  _ but them. It was about the people that were coming after him and standing at his back. 

Xiaojun had a strong look for the page, and a benevolent cough that made him finally react. Opening the folder he was carrying, Lucas approached the table. 

—May I announce the start of a council meeting, presided over the Prince Xiaojun of Ignis and having it as the first council he runs as crown prince. 

—Thank you, Lucas— said the prince, taking the lead of the reunion once and for all, officially starting the event and reading through the elegant handwriting of his papers— Ladies and gentlemen, it's an honor for me to handle the necessities of the kingdom. As for today, we have various matters to treat. Lady Song Yuqi has an intervention in the name of the  _ Silk Company of Merchants _ .

— That's right— said the small president. Her wavy and orange hair held behind his head with two braids, beautifully arranged and studded with jewels— We are losing money at a fast speed over the center of the town. For the strong winds lately, tourists are not flowing, nor merchants are. As a simple math, if they don't move, coins don't roll.

—Forgive my interruption, miss— cut Xiaojun— But I have to ask for this point to wait a few moments more, since prince Jungwoo has summoned this reunion and his requests are a priority, technically speaking.

— After he delayed his date, which is an irony— marked Hendery. 

His words owned him several looks that were more like daggers, the biggest one from his brother, and the second in the scale by Mark. 

Lucas moved uncomfortably, searching from a posture, like trying to hold onto a burning coal. The wind shook the windows a bit from the breeze outside. Or inside, his senses were not so sure at that rate about where did the wind pushed from. 

—Prince Jungwoo, if you please— continued the prince as if his brother didn't open his mouth a minute ago— Share your suggestion.

—It's actually not a suggestion— replied the silver prince. His voice sounded different, approaching more to the music of the Final Act rather than the Seventh. Lucas felt the tremble, and it passed through everyone's bones, too; but he was the one to see it all make sense. He was once the Break of the Wind, he was with his heart at ease for a white beautiful dragon and now, the ending ballad. He felt like tip-toeing, as in standing at the edge of a very high cliff trying to maintain the balance— My kingdom has grown too much in these past years. I am proud of seeing my nation developing, from my youth to my adulthood, is something that makes me full. A lot of nobility populates the Silver City, and the ports of Keihin are packed with merchants, but for my disgrace we are an island, and our territory is starting to be too small for the increasing population, so we- 

— You want this kingdom— shorted Hendery. 

All the merchants and traders looked directly at him, astonished. 

—Hendery!— reproached his brother— Don't int-

— Yes, I want this kingdom.

Sicheng gave a long glance to Lucas, paling down a bit as he reminded himself to stay still, not precipitate into the abyss yet. 

The soldier clapped a hand on his shoulder, maybe with the intention of giving him hope and not worry so quickly about wars, for councils often had lots of solutions for those problems that were very usual; he didn't know that Lucas was no longer worried about his country or the nationalistic feeling that many times he had told himself that was his motive for politeness, his heart revolved around something abstract and a potent feeling of endearment. 

Jungwoo had treated him better than anyone he had known before, maybe out of benevolence or maybe because he gathered just about all the measures that Lucas needed to feel whole. He had a happy blast when he heard him laugh, his heart raced just by looking at his beauty and his soul melted when his real sweet and funny personality granted him a moment. 

He just wished that he had heard wrong and that the threat he was feeling was a dramatic exaggeration caught in his lately-amplified-in-sensitiveness heart.

—I told you— Blurted out Hendery— Why let him decorate it?

—This is the cucumber of disrespect!— proffered the president of merchants, raising up from her seat— You have gathered us here to tell us you are going to present war against our nation.

— Lady Song, I have to ask you to sit down and respect your turn— said Xiaojun a bit too harsh to be talking to nearly the richest woman- and person- of bourgeois in his country— This is not a topic to discuss with a rush or heated stokes of behaviour.  _ Jungwoo _ , explain yourself. 

—This doesn't have to be a war if we reach an agreement, Xiaojun.

—I am aware.

—What do you want us to do?—scoffed Hendery— Hand you our nation just like that? Shall we give you the papers of our territories so you can slowly conquer all of this and expand your domains until you have an imperium big enough to fit all your ego inside? Are you on your right mind?

—Are you, majesty?— intervened Mark, as Hendery bitterly bite Jungwoo back— I don't think you should take the right of treating the prince with this irreverent attitude when you have five of our galleons waiting at the pier.

—Don't threaten a royal member like that— advised Renjun to Mark.

—You two stop speaking on my behalf, I have vocal cords of my own! Did I ask any of you for your intervention?— jumped out Jungwoo, raising his tone and slamming his hand on the table. Then, his gaze fell on Xiaojun like a dead weight— Although this is not the way I planned to make it obvious, Mark has the reason, we have ships at your shores. I cannot go back to my country leaving my citizens without something to eat, don't make it harder than it should.

—Well— said Xiaojun, his tone always steady and calm. He was disgustingly measured in every official event, and it setted Hendery off. His fingers laced together and he rested his chin over them, glancing back at Jungwoo without a single doubt in his brain— Then let me propose: Do you want to marry me, Prince Jungwoo of Ventum Anguis? 

Oh,  _ marriage. _

There would always be a debate over a topic like this. Some would use the term out of a heart drenched in love, while some others would play with the potential it had, to exploit their interests. Some would call it a privilege, the dream of their lives… while for others it would be just ink and paper. 

Or land in the stakes, a mere agreement of convenience. 

For Lucas it had always been about making it be a happy family but in less than a breath it became a ridiculous idea, an insane reality and a pricking option. Even General Yuta opened his eyes a bit wide when the words came to his ears, and he wasn't the only one. Jungwoo, as well, had looked at the prince as if he had said the most mind-blowing thing in the world. 

And is not like arranged marriages weren't a thing, in fact, the story of royalty was full of them, that's how people had built empires before. 

Threats, war and marriages. 

Hendery got up from his chair, in front of the row of astonished guests of the round table that kept a dead silence. The rain started picking the crystal of the windows again with consistency. Only a royal would dare to intervene in that scene, and so did Hendery without disappointing.

— This is a tomfoolery!

—Is not— jabbered Xiaojun, quite tired of his brother’s quarrels— Ignis never gives their nation up, we are very fond of it. This is a country of traditions and respect. As well, we don't want a war that hurts our people and crushes our belongings, putting to waste our efforts to maintain us big and bright. And Ventum Anguis wants lands and they have the best sailors of the Middle Sea. They get lands, we get better sailors and traders that would improve the economic situation Miss Song was telling us about, and no one needs to get hurt during the process. 

—What about our pride?— asked Hendery, who seemed totally convinced about putting every argument in need for stopping that marriage, and had torn Yangyang's hand off his shoulder, declining his invitation to sit and calm down. Even thought Hendery was never a problem, the situation had taken him out of character. One of his brothers was emotional enough to asphyxiate in a palace, and the other was so emotionally stupid he was proposing to a man just to stop a war— We are giving him power over us just because he is all about words and terrorizing, we shall not be so easy.

—This is not your decision, Hendery, is mine, for I choose who to offer the title of my consort to; and Prince Jungwoo's, for he has the right to accept or decline the offer according to his considerations. 

—This is a council.

—You can't veto a royal marriage, nor an order approved by not one but two seniors. 

—Then ask the priests for the Gods' opinion on this.

Everyone turned to the place where the three priests were sitting around the table. The center place was for Haechan. He was a young boy, with an unusual tone of grayish hair that made him look pure and suitable for the role he owned. Of course, that was a picturesque coincidence, and the reason of his spot belonged to his benevolent intake of things and his passionate seek of joy since he was a teenager. He still needed lecture and learning from superior orders, but he sure would fill the position of abbot rightfully, and the most faithful citizens had even named him Full Sun, for the clarity of his inner self.

—In this instance, I don't think his majesty Jungwoo is the more suitable pick from our crown prince— He started carefully— Nonetheless, there's never a winning side when war arrives, and preserving the safety and well-being of our people is a priority for Gods' demands.

—But they are already powerful— intervened Sicheng, forgetting that he had not the best position to speak in the council due to the very irregular following of rules they were doing in that specific reunion— Ventum Anguis would become a harsh rival if given more domains and money. Caleo used to be two different kingdoms and now the empire of the Zhong can’t be overtaken.

—But you wouldn't have to front us, anyhow, we would be allies— Counter pointed Yuta.

It stopped raining out of a sudden, the real silence owning the room after that note. 

Xiaojun took a deep breath. His narrow eyes, dark like the night, traveled to Jungwoo. 

Lucas wasn't sure that the western prince was looking back or even that he was still there, mentally, as he looked at him trying to guess what he was thinking or how would they get out of that situation. 

He doubted they could get out at all. 

—Everyone has stated their  _ unrequested _ opinions, now if I'm given the honor, I would like you all to let his majesty, Jungwoo, tell us what he thinks about my proposal.

His eyes flickered, long lashes fanning fast like a flapping butterfly. He looked at Lucas, he really did glance at his direction and licked his dry lips with a fast motion before going back to the ruling head of the kingdom he was in. 

The page straightened a bit more, holding onto his tip-toe on the cliff, for a second of hope longer.

—Marrying you seems about suitable. 

It precipitated. 

Not only Lucas, who did not move a muscle of his body, but the entire room did explode around them.

Hendery got up like a striking lightning and dragged his brother by the sleeve, pulling him up with him and ignoring that he was a crown prince in service, just acting around him like he would do with a brother. 

— Hendery, don't you embolden and behave, this is a council— He mumbled to him as the called dragged him.

— Council finished. Everyone can go back to their daily routine— He claimed as he pushed him out of the room and the door closed behind them. Mark seethed but Jungwoo was not paying attention to the havoc of his surroundings— What have you done? Don't you have a minimum of brain cells in your head?

—Hendery… 

—What!?— the voice of his brother, full of a condescendence, typical from the people that considered him a poor little lamb with less intellect than a fly, cause him to snap, thoroughly— Do you think you have the universal truth, don't you? Look at how you walk and how you speak to me, you moron, isn't my blood as blue as yours!?

— I am the crown prince!

—You are an illegitimate bastard, just like me!— the unison gasp announced the presence of Yangyang and Winwin, running after them to try to ease things up before any of the brothers could put on blast their mismeasured personal conflict while the entire council could still hear them muffled behind the door, but Hendery kept storming— One month doesn't give you the right to look down at me, I deserve to have a voice, don't you dare erase my opinions in this. 

—Do something— urged Sicheng under his breath, pulling the string of the bow— I can't shoot at them.

—You can't marry Jungwoo, you can't do this to us!

—Well, brother, he accepted, I am sorry but life does not always please everyone's tastes. 

Hendery's lungs inflated, with an unusual look on him that indicated he was about to vomit an indecent volume of words, not suitable for every age, to his brother. About how he was acting careless and arrogant, about cowardice against the instigations from the west, about the neglected familiarity that had created an immense riff between one another instead of sticking together once Ten was gone. Hendery knew Ten would have been more sensible, more reasonable. He was about to reproach it all with a roaring voice, but his impulse cut down with the sound of the door opening while they still stood arguing in the hallway. 

It first let Lucas out the conference room, with the look of going through a headache that could be perfectly explained under the connotation of guarding a new prince that he still wasn't used to, and that only went through difficulties day after day since the coronation events started. But, as well, when Lucas had crossed half of the hallway with his long strides, ignoring the entire disarray that was tearing down his settled life, the clacking footsteps of Jungwoo followed him. 

The silver prince didn't want to run, basically because he couldn't afford such a passionate act of commitment out in the wide, in front of the court, but he did step quickly enough to be in need of pulling the long edges of his clothes up in order to not stumble over them. 

He turned one, two and three corners behind him and then he ran. 

— Lucas— The taller one dedicated him a look of profound tiredness when Jungwoo reached him at the middle of the upper floor salons where he had stopped to give him a chance. A small little chance to voice his mind before he threw up for running after him with the unquestionable extra weight of his royal attire and the equally heavy burden of regret, if he had shame enough to feel any— Dont turn your back at me, please, I-

—Me? Jungwoo, for the Gods...— he rolled his eyes, colding down fast, as it was not to expect from the "son of the east", a hot-blooded man from the desert. 

Wrong approachment. 

He looked so indifferent that Jungwoo felt midst infuriated and midst scared. 

The page kept walking just as he was doing a moment ago, hearing again the rapid flow of the prince's dress gracing the floor as he moved behind him. He was stubborn, that for sure, so much as he was beautiful and alluring at the corner of Lucas' eyes, still flaunting that dress made by the hand of a very cruel angel. 

—Listen, it’s obvious that we both need to talk. L-let's have a talk!

—You are losing trustworthiness with the recent performances, let me say, so I don't know if we should.

—Grant this to me, Lucas. Let's…— Jungwoo paused, from talking and from following him, to inhale— Come with me, we are not going to ignore this. Allow me to have the benefit of the doubt.

From the gaze Lucas gave him, piercing him from the front to the back, he could have thought that Lucas would say no. But he was too rational for that, and too kind to decline him as hard as someone else could have done. 


	15. Intermission: To Heaven and back

Ten came in through the door, hopping with the dance of a smile on his face and a paper bag of something that smelled like sugary fried dough. 

He had adapted to his new place pretty well, more than that, he found himself his true happiness. He liked the city, he actually liked to work and especially learn the job when Taeyong taught him how threads worked or the tricks to do a straighter stitch. He even studied which was his favorite bakery of the entire market to order breakfast, so this scene was very common of wednesdays. 

Loose pants, long coat over a shirt, and fuzzy black hair without pins; looking at him like that always made Taeyong smile in the morning without exception. 

But not that day. 

Instead of going to greet him with a kiss on his cheek, or in his forehead, or wherever he got the kiss to land the day in question, Taeyong looked at him with a shine of worry. 

—What's wrong, dear? You look a bit listless today, lots of work?— he said, biting one of the buns and then getting rid of the powdered sugar off his fingers as he approached him to take a reel and a needle—I can leave what I was designing and help you sewing if you want, I have time.

—No, no, it's not about that— said Taeyong, shaking his head and forcing a comforting smile, pulling Ten back with his hand slowly— But there's something for you to take a look at.

—Is it a present? Because I swear, Taeyong...— said Ten about to scold him with endearment— I told you there's no need for you to fix the lace of my dress, it's okay we plucked it a little in the party, there's…

He stopped talking, for Taeyong has pulled out from his tunic an envelope that he was very familiar with, not knowing how to be softer about its arrival with him. Being softer was what he would have wished for the most, in that exact moment, if he had something to pray to. 

—It arrived this morning when you were out, I didn't know what should I do with it, and the mailman said it was sent in the urgent set so… 

He tended the envelope to him. 

It was burgundy red, a very expensive paper that only outstandingly rich people, like monarchy, could use. It didn't have a stamp, nor return address written on the reverse, just a wax seal with Ignis’ badge. 

Ten took it, and the mercer didn’t miss the shiver in the move. Opening it, he became the most careful person in the world, as if he would cut the tips of his delicate fingers with the creamy paper. His eyes flickered over the message for a moment not longer than a second, and then he pushed it back to Taeyong's hands.

—Please, read it for me.

— Tennie...

—Do it, please— He said as his voice gave a subtle turn to be more demanding, but still with the velvet he used to caress Taeyong every time. It was a breath, a concerning one. Taeyong knew Ten couldn’t read it by himself, and that he would never say it out loud in order to not worry him. It was his subtle way of asking for some emotional help— It's from Hendery, I can recognize his handwriting.

Taeyong's lips formed an "o". The response Ten gave him was enough to drop the complaints towards his beloved. Nonetheless, a big part of him knew he was about to hurt him. 

His eyes searched for the first line, written over the red paper with letters of golden ink. Taking a look through the window of that world was no longer something he could say it reminded him to his love. Ten was not like that, he wasn't so pretentious; although he had a tilt into the elegance and a jolting presence of a prince, sometimes, the enclosure of a palace did not reflect on his soul at all.

Ten was born to be free, that was what Taeyong learned first when he could start reading him with depth. His mother, whoever she was, gave him more of a built attitude that his father and his vassals did. He liked to dip his feet on the fountains, eat making his cheeks full and puffy and laugh way too hard. 

— _ "The day you left, the revolution staged" _ — he read out loud, unable to look at Ten, aware of how his voice would crack halfway through the reading of the letter if he saw his countenance. A prince did know how to start a text breaking every single pot of the house, apparently, thought Taeyong— _ "The wind has raised, it's batting on our windows, driving us to have unsettled feelings. Maybe it's too naive of me to believe there's a place for us to face against a gale, but that's what we were raised for. In this situation I deposited my faith in our brother, thinking he would have the firm and steady hand of a monarch, but I fear his mind has strived in the storm towards a darker place, and he has rejected my advice. This is the moment when I noticed…"  _

Taeyong did a pause, this time daring to direct his eyes to Ten, in a careless move. He wished he could have burned that letter before he arrived home and never chose the righteous voice in his brain that told him Ten had the right to know about the messages directed to his person or the things they contained. 

— If you are so kind, please, keep reading.

Taeyong inhaled. 

— _ "This is the moment when I noticed that I have always shielded behind you, behind your kindness, whenever he attempted to disappoint me. But now, you are here no longer, and I don't know what to do anymore." _

That was the end of the letter, without a signature closing the harsh text. It was no needed. He pulled the letter in the envelope and slowly looked at Ten. 

Oh, his most dear person and the way his eyes fell close so slowly with a sigh, polluted by a veiled sign of wanting to cry. 

He detested it. 

And he detested that, when Ten spoke again after a minute, it sounded like a crystal chandelier breaking inside his heart. 

— Our time has run out, isn't it?


	16. Anemones

Lucas followed the prince into what was presumably the guest room that had been assigned to him. 

Under the feeling of displeasure with the whole situation, it played a coat of curiosity, invading him as he crossed the door and entered somewhere that was supposed to belong to Jungwoo only.

And indeed, the place weeped the personality of the prince. It was an open space, impregnated with a very light perfume like fresh clothes. There was a thin carpet of golden veining that resembled a marble pattern, and matched perfectly with the bright posts that held the canopy bed together. The colors were so flimsy and calm that it made Lucas loathe even more the situation he had when the time of visiting came. 

There were so many different shapes inside that dormitory, with a round bed but square night tables. A long chaise but with globelike pots of flowers. 

Jungwoo was inconsistent just like that room, uncommonly so, to an extent that it made him appealing for Lucas even more than only with the superficial fact that he found him pretty and interesting as soon as he took the time to shake off the first cold drops of fearful reverence. 

How he liked to fear him still.

He had ventured into the unexplored appeals of the Silver Prince by natural reflex, or spontaneity, soon discovering that he had a special kind of beauty. That one that was all about suggestion and feeling thrilled. It was not a characteristic he was wearing himself, but that activated when the page wandered close to him, making the thrill bloom on his skin. 

Lucas was afraid someone else could have the chaotic idea of being as imprudent as he himself had been, stealing his privileges. 

And he was mad for it, he had gone ballistic over the easines in which Jungwoo gave that away, with that very charming _ “Marrying you seems about suitable” _ . In hell it was! He had been violently pushed into a shock, because wether it was a measured act or a move careless of what they had been sharing before, it sounded light in the prince’s voice. 

With all, he had let Jungwoo guide the last steps through the upper floor’s salon towards his chamber, because he had him steem enough to listen to him although he was mad. 

When they reached a safe place where no one could hear them, unlike the two princes that for sure would still be yelling at each other right besides the council room’s door, Jungwoo looked at him, serious to no small extent, and fidgeting with his fingers, in a clicking cloud of gowns and jewels, he pushed himself to speak to Lucas evading the awkwardness that surrounded their togetherness for obvious reasons. 

—Lucas, to begin with, I'm not proud of all of this— explained Jungwoo careful of not pulling from the wrong string too fast and tangle the whole thing— I think my part right now is to admit that we have embroiled with each other in a susceptible way, letting sentiments…

—Somehow it feels like I am the only one involved— he interrupted, making Jungwoo dig an invisible hole in him as he looked straight at the page with a slightly molested way.

—That's not true, for what we have been doing there’s a need of two.

—Really?— he scoffed sarcastically— Because I think I heard you say just now that you would be marrying Xiaojun.

—That's what it seems, but-

—Well, that's that— continued Lucas about to go out the door and refuse to hear any single word more. Staring for longer to the painfully alluring vision of Jungwoo in that dress, with his silver anemones on his hair that reminded him all the time what his reason to wear them was. It pushed hard in his mind, making the page want to be convinced by him, really bad, that everything that hung in between them was real and the prince really made a silversmith carve those flowers for him out of a softened heart— I'm honored I served you as an appetizer, majesty, what a bachelor party.

—Lucas, wait, you have to understand that all of it was about politics. I wasn't playing around with you and-

—Politics— he said bitterly, releasing the door's handle to look at him again. He didn't know where to look at, where to explode— And what does your big plan say about me? I have no place in "politics"! I am a person, I feel things… 

— Be my… be my paramour.

It was true that Junwoo was the protagonist of a story, and that he had a demon holding on his chest, but under the coat of opaque charcoal and cold white adornations, Jungwoo was still human. He had feelings, and everyone could have known it was true if they sensed how his heart broke in that moment of silence, when he saw Lucas' expression. It clenched in synchrony with the page's lips. 

Lucas shook his head slowly, trying not to give up to more grief. 

— Look at what you are asking me to do, to be “the other one”. You want me to turn a blind eye and put on a smile while I see you with another man.

— I don't love him.

— But I love you, goddammit, Jungwoo.

It sounded very smooth, not a peak of a higher tone in his voice. There was nothing harmful about his words like if it was a reproach or a condition, it was a fact. 

Jungwoo approached him, the material of his dress making a dull noise as it graced the marble floor. His intention was to kiss him, but Lucas slightly moved away and made it become a clumsy peck on his jaw that almost got a tear to flow down the prince's puffy cheeks. 

—This is not how I planned it— explained Jungwoo with his tone unsettled, target of some uprising hatred— You were not in my plans, I didn't note a point that said "fall in an inconvenient love", but I guess that's how things actually happen, that someone can't plan every little detail of a campaign as if he is the owner of fate, not even a monarch. I don’t know if it would have been worse to never come here and never fall for you or if I rather the stay here to love you quietly and… clumsily.

—I know what it is like. Is not like I haven't made mistakes— apuncted Lucas. He still couldn't look straight at his eyes but he knew Jungwoo was observing him with attention and surprise while he pulled out the air in his lungs with a big exhale— I am not the one who could say to be always right, to always know how to do… I cannot judge you severally, for that there are Gods. I fuck up much more than I intent to, I like to kick the same rocks twice and I am a total wreck… I know how making mistakes feels like... I know how being clumsy is. Clumsy is my brand, I guess.

—I like your brand— He said almost snuggling against him from the increasing proximity. Lucas gave a small smile— I wonder what can I do... I can't back up now, I have allies with me, vassals waiting… you know that I should be fitting a lot of expectations right now from both my country and yours, there are entire nations on the table...

— And what is a nation?

Jungwoo had always said he spoke like a teacher despite being a page but, at the time, he kicked off the official books and shielded behind something much more abstract but it was because Jungwoo, and Lucas himself, were quite undefinable, hard to delimit with a mundane standard. Nothing suited them more than divergence. Jungwoo shorted their distance. In that try, Lucas didn't move, and let him kiss him, briefly, on his lips. 

—If you ask me, right here and now, I guess my answer would be "just land".

He caressed Lucas's chest, so golden for the shine of his skin under the smooth marble of Jungwoo's fingers, and traced a pattern with the tips. At first, the page thought it was only a random drawing, but soon he felt it was heart-shaped. It made his soul bubble, and his hands landed on Jungwoo's shoulder ever so delicately, because his skin had the aspect of some sort of untouched and innocent surface he didn't want to ruin. 

— For everything, to get a grip of it, there must be endeavor.

Lucas leant on his lips, and pressed them with no trace of a sharp edge, only soft and mushy lips guarding his favorite feeling in forever. It gave him courage, it just burst inside him, unclasping the silver chain of jewels that shone against Jungwoo's throat and adorned the chest of his dress, all the way down in a straight line. His hand found a place in the curve of his neck, just as he had wanted it the most, and pulled him down to another kiss, more passionate. Jungwoo's tongue asking for permission in his mouth and Lucas indulging him with a jolt of electricity passing from the tips of his fingers to Jungwoo's skin. The prince's hands dared, then, to move, wounding the long hair of Lucas's nape as the later, without breaking the kiss, pushed the rich white material off his shoulders, dragging the straps that hold the dress together with it.

For a moment he pulled back, absorbing the view of Jungwoo's dress becoming nothing more important than crumpled fabric on the floor. He breathed in, feeling like there wasn't enough oxygen in the room, his lungs only taking in the desire. It was an unexpected moment, but it just flowed with their unique pace. His mouth moved to his free neck this time, and then up to press a love peck just under his ear. His kisses were firm, almost painful, the prince barely reacting with something beyond the whimpers of want and pleasure.

He wrapped an arm around Jungwoo's waist and without saying anything, he moved the curtain of the bed open, slowly, guiding him through the soft material with such care than even the touch of the curtains made Jungwoo feel tingly. His gaze was full of commitment and an equal tendency to carry on with that boldness. The prince's back touched the mushy covers, his heart raced fast like never before, and his lips felt cold against the air after all the kissing given by Lucas, nothing less, separated from them. He could see the well defined silhouette of the page at the other side of the curtains, cut perfectly while he got rid of his jacket and pants. 

When he opened the curtain again, appearing in the middle of the extraordinary captivating shapes of the Ignis styled columns that held the bed together, he became sure Jungwoo was a painting meant to be admired. There, standing on his elbows, he was laying down with his legs apart, his exposed skin glowing dimly, his chest heavily rising and descending eager for air, and the shape of his evidently aroused shaft marking under his white underwear. 

—Xuxi— he breathed out, his perfectly marked eyes framing dark pupils that were hanging from Lucas', shining like a couplet of diamonds— I am sorry, my conscience is smitten, if I have to… 

—Shhh— Lucas shushed him putting a finger over his lips once the curtain had closed behind him and he had crawled onto the bed to then climb the prince with one leg at each of his sides. He pushed him back very slowly to lay him on the pillows. Both of them could feel the temperature increasing by the second, about to melt everything between that circle enclosure of white silk down— Let's not talk about it now

Jungwoo's long lashes fluttered when his partner's lips went back to his skin and, that time, he was brave enough to use his tongue to caress him. He pampered him with a lot of small touches and bites that made Jungwoo revolve on the mattress, creating a murmur of little sighs that stimulated Lucas way too much to maintain his body unshaken, and so his tongue finally latched onto the pinkish bud of Jungwoo's nipple. He vibrated with every touch he have him, slowly becoming only melted wax boiling hot on his tanned skin. Jungwoo's hips rolled slowly, rising from the bed to go and find Lucas. The page caught the sign, and his hands descended on his sides to then pull down his pants, slipping them over his toned thighs and exposing his needy state with a quiet groan. 

He had to swallow hard, embellished of how beautiful he could grow as he tore clothes off him. The prince of the Wind Region was about as told as him, but his body was very different, so sbelt and toned like polished marble. He wished his hands were steady enough when he touched him, teasing his perception. He almost couldn't believe that the way he was seeing him, perfectly greedy and hot, was all because of things he had said and how he had touched him. Lucas wanted to have every inch of his skin, just as Junwoo’s hands were traveling down to undress the page entirely. 

—Tell me the precise way according to your wishes, how do you want it… — he said with an enthralled tone that mixed notes of elation, impulsed by the slow stroke Jungwoo gave to his hardness. Jungwoo pulled him down closer to his lips, so only Lucas, and no one else, could hear him whispering like that. 

The wind had stopped all over the regions, speaking only for one person inside that room.

—I want to feel you within me

It was a hundred percent sure that Lucas had blushed slightly to that, and that he felt the drops of sweat gliding down on his back. His heart was runaway, he could feel his own pulse flowing through his veins, and all the moments he had lived with Jungwoo passed in front of his eyes, never imagining that he would have the chance to hear him ask for such a thing. Lucas had always had a sense of propriety and principles but, at that moment, he couldn’t care less; he was whiny and wet because of Jungwoo's hand working him off, to hell with propriety! 

He first slipped a couple of fingers inside him, very careful of not hurting him at all. Jungwoo, all the same, wasn’t nothing near as fragile as sometimes Lucas painted him in his mind. The prince arched his back a bit on the mattress to give him a good angle and his eyes searched for the page’s to give him a glance that would had made all the court pale down, for it carried so much concupiscence, enough to make Lucas’ twitch when he dropped a quiet and very-on-purpose sound of bliss. 

Lucas couldn’t help but smile, gaining the little bit of assurement he last lacked, and started to play with him, for a prolonged and heated moment, making sure he did well getting him ready for a more intimate encounter. They both were aware of how long they were taking to work Jungwoo open and pleased, but there was never an intention of doing it faster, enjoying all the road towards it, and every gesture they did, they did it to please the other, without exceptions.

Just went he could feel the prince’s body in clear need of something more consistent, he snatched his hand away and lined with him.

Jungwoo wrapped his legs around Lucas' waist, getting every possible inch that separated them out of the scene and losing his focus, in favour of the sensation of Lucas crossing the borders of his body. His golden locks of blonde hair spilled on the pillow as he kicked his head back with a sweet and clear moan, maybe not so intentional this time. Lucas was in awe, his mind, and especially, his body, caught in a state of sublime pleasure as he moved inside the damp warmth of Jungwoo. 

There was no possible comparison with anything else in the mundane world.

With a slow pace, they built a swinging dance on the luxurious bed, Lucas' chest inflaming with the intense flame of love once his eyes captured the prince's pink lips parting for his ragged breath to come through. Be wanted to watch his face with that expression forever. The latter didn't even remember a time when he had struggled to breath, but Lucas could make him do so. 

As they went, Lucas deeped in more, his hips deliciously moving for Jungwoo, who caressed the way up the page's arms and stopped behind his neck, lacing his hands there to support himself, to pull him into a kiss that would let him as breathless as him. Lucas let him do it, tasting his exhale on his tongue. 

Indeed, he couldn't barely breath, not while kissing him at the time he panted, not leaving out the fact that, although he wasn't aware of his own musicality, he was groaning; and that his hand wrapped around his throbbing erection to help him go absolutely blind from euphoria. 

—Xuxi —The called looked at him in the eyes, noting how they both chose to go through them and fall somewhere beyond. He shivered— There

—There?

Jungwoo nodded quickly, closing his legs tighter around the page's body and surrendering to sound high pitched in every syllable that left his mouth, whether it was a word or an unintelligible cry. 

—… just right there

Lucas felt very entitled to give him an unforgetable ending, so he did it as Jungwoo asked, harder onto the spot that made him whine the most deliciously and tightened his hold around him in every possible sense. It took him only a few more thrusts for Jungwoo to close his eyes hard, twitching under him, raising high and falling fast, to end leaking on Lucas's hand. He had repeated his name so many times, and under his breath, he did it a few more, as Lucas moved his hips a little faster, having a manic addiction to the feeling his beloved was giving him, to terminate inside him with a warm slash that got him completely dizzy.

His heated body relaxed over the prince, his face finding a place on the pillow, accommodated on the crook of Jungwoo's neck with the most perfect piecing assemblement. 

—You are so fucking beautiful I don't think it's any moral to sin with you— murmured Lucas, too blissed out to measure, nor filter, his words— I don't want to go 

—Don't go— whispered Jungwoo, his hands exploring Lucas's toned back gently while the page still panted out of breath— I want you to stay here for a while,  _ please _ … I'm not very used to ask things please

—Everyone warned me— shifted Lucas— There wasn't barely anyone who didn't take one second of their life to warn me about this… and I still… still… 

—You should have listened

—Oh no, I doubt it. I like it like this, more. I want it this way… the hard way

—You can't let me play with important things, you can't let me play with a heart, Xuxi

—I have a hostage— he breathed, leaving Jungwoo quite astonished 

—You have a what again?

—A hostage. A safety catch, you may say… while you play with my heart I hold yours and I won't return it unless you give mine back 

Jungwoo revolved, sitting up on the bed and making Lucas move with the flow. He looked at the page face to face, in his every feature there was the sign of a grimace that had never known a challenge to his power. However, he didn't fume nor bristle, his breath was a calm lake of peace. 

He traced Lucas's lip with his thumb, ever so subtly, then the ghost of a smile got him before he pressed his lips there once more. 

— Seems like you really do. Promises last less than a breath and the wind pushes words away faster than this calm breeze of the desert… but I'm here with you, this depiction is in motion, right? Tell me you are getting me 

—I am getting you— he said before he kissed him once more. It didn't have an end, there wasn't an end to them. Lucas could see what was like to love someone so bad that things sometimes stopped making sense at all, and maybe you had to be imprudent or commit to something insane like jumping off a sail in the middle of a storm— As long as there's a moment for us, it's still alive, it's still true that you are mine 

—Right… right, Xuxi, my heart is for you 

Jungwoo's cheek puffed like an unbaked loaf of bread when he hugged Lucas closer, leaning them both on the pillows where the price took the time to kiss his temple and his shoulders for a little bit longer. His languid movements reflecting the sleepiness were still gracefully when he took the long hairpin of his golden hair, twirling the metallic mimic of an anemone in his fingers and hanging it between Lucas's dark locks of hair, instead. 

No one deserved it more than him.


	17. Eye of the storm

—You know what? Stop it, I'm not going

Yangyang puffed, the tiredness starting to ghost inside his brain and stick to his temples where a puncturing pain threatened to appear. 

The last week had been slow at some facets, and too fast, nonetheless. The council had come to an agreement that admitted Xiaojun's solution as an easy manner to avoid a conflict, because after all, no one wanted to see the marine sails taking off to a naval war and, even less, to coexist with the sound of weapons at the street day after day until someone won, many lost lives after. 

As for the prince Hendery, his way of coping with the law still found a bumpy road ahead.

His father, the king, had scolded him for putting up such a scandalous tantrum against his brother and current owner of the crown, mostly due to the exposure they could have received from outsiders, vassals and investors. Like if no one could expect a prince to fly off the handle, painting it as an unusual thing just when his elder brother took the most whimsical monarch and asked for his hand in marriage. 

As he was able to see it, they better be gearing up for what was to come, if they were so bothered with excessive temper. 

He knew very well, anyhow, where the court could draw the line, being himself the poor youngest brother that doesn't know anything and complains for pleasure, while Jungwoo seemed to them a mature prince with the right to rage. 

Yangyang had been able to get through his brain that he should calm down and handle things coldly, even knowing that that was among Hendery's worst problems with the situation. He wasn't someone, to put it like this, that could detach from his sympathies easily, nor sell his principles. With all, the week went through and Hendery tried again and again to stop his brother. Everyday Yangyang and Lucas sat down and witnessed an hour-long argument that started with Hendery's reasons to oppose the decision and ended with Xiaojun pronouncing a heated speech, pointing his most important statements with a silver spoon, about all his reasons to be committed to marry Prince Jungwoo of Ventum Anguis. 

For Lucas that was more pleasing than the moments when Xiaojun tried movements to approach Jungwoo and, for instance, put his hand over the prince’s or giggled way too close to his face.

Anyhow, with the accumulation of crossed days on the calendar, the younger page had noted a more lowkey sentiment from his master, and for a couple of days, maybe just some hours, he believed in the possibility of him just accepting the union in silence. 

Bold of him to assume such a ludicrous thing, blinded by hope. He armed himself with patience and a smile, even though Yangyang was better at being refreshingly gracious than sentimental, but after years of easy tasks with the prince he might be obliged to work harder for a period of time. 

—Same refrain again, majesty?— he cooed with a softened tone, standing behind him with the hair clip that should be plucked in his hair already, at that hour. His hair had become much longer from the last time he cut it, so it gave him an interesting look, more mature and handsome. It was left with the natural flow, contrary to the very expensive looking outfit of emerald green silk and golden pendants, tiring by only its outer look with long and wide sleeves that were probably as heavy as Yangyang's entire set of clothes put together— Since we are only a couple of hours away from the "yes, I do" I think you should maybe stop the pressure and enjoy the festivity and the peace.

—But Yangyang, you see, the problem is not that— refuted the prince. Sat on the hassock, he had his arms crossed on his chest for what Yangyang could perfectly see reflecting in the mirror where they both were waiting, trying to find a moment to finish his preparations to go— Is not like I'm specifically pleased seeing my brother accept a marriage for convenience instead of love, but you know, from a young age I understand that that could happen to us someday. Yet still, what annoys me is that is not going to solve things up. This wedding? I can go, I can attend and give Xiaojun some taps on his back, but it wouldn't change the fact that it's the eye of the storm. 

—But majesty, the prince has been measured and composed all the time through his visit here, maybe we have to give him a vote of confidence.

—I do not have a ballot with my trust for Jungwoo, Yangyang, I do not trust him. Look at how he entered Ignis. Maybe you think I'm touchy only because I was the one who got shot but the truth is that a prince that makes his entrance trying to cause panic and get things for an infused fear to his person is not my cup of tea. 

—W-well— Said Yangyang trying to find more ways to convince him to finish and go down to the grand salon, now probably drenched in a full wedding decoration. He knew Hendery had a point, indeed he agreed with his opinion, but it was not his place to stand in the middle of the royal decisions, he was there only to try to make them flow easier for his master— You know how this diplomacy codes and offensives are… but for sure he has been impassive lately. To be fair, one can't even feel him.

Feel him, someone at least was getting that goal done. The reason why Jungwoo has been keeping his silence and, most important, his composure, went by the name of Huang Xuxi.

Challenging the rules of his royal house, and basically the ones that every monarchy shared, the page had reached his highest peak of dare in the spawn of nine days. Nine days in which he had become the golden  _ paramour _ of prince Jungwoo, his illegitimate and yet enticing lover. No one really stopped to consider why Lucas spent so many of his day-and night- hours fulfilling the wishes and requests of their guest, since the task of doing so was supposed to be assigned to him from the beginning.

It was the perfect excuse, as well as the cause of the entire problem. 

What people in the court did not know, of course, is that the confined silence between page and prince was nothing less than a prosperous strategy to hide their real intentions. Nine days, counting from the council meeting, in which Lucas had promised to himself he would have absolutely every piece of Jungwoo he could get. And he was accomplishing. 

At some moments it was just tea time, endless conversations on the couch as Jungwoo crossed his arms at the windowsill, looking out, and comical comments that made them laugh together. 

Those grants overlapped with the elating succession of kisses, troubled breathing and love words in a low tone. Not that they were scared of someone hearing them but they had a reason put on the fact that they were only trusting the very act of love, and not the word.

Truth be told, Lucas fell into a general quietnes. 

When he wasn’t with Jungwoo, he came to reality and faced the other side of the coin. Xiaojun, as it was the rule for a prince and his helping hand, asked him what to wear, or requested help with questions that Lucas would have liked not to answer. 

_ “Do you think he likes peonies or hydrangeas better?” _ ,  _ “Should I write something romantic for the votes or is that too much in this case?”. _ It was hard to answer with an honest sincerity, he couldn’t say Jungwoo liked anemones the best or that he wasn’t fond of empty love talk, but again, Lucas nodded and said hydrangeas were better. 

It had no point, he wasn’t selfish enough to tell Jungwoo to stop the wheel, to push him to make an entire war start across the nations just for him. Perhaps he could have used a little bit of egotism, but at the end he was just there, sitting on a chair with the most precious suit he ever wore, a two-pieces navy blue set with trimmed silver decorations that imitated clouds, under the whole apparatus of flowers and garlands propper of a wedding. 

Since he had been waiting for nearly thirty minutes, he had time to notice with horror that he was sitting too close to the shrine and that he would have to pretend very well when Xiaojun kissed his lover to not become red out of anger. 

Where was the border of people starting to notice their real feelings?

Briefly, it came the time when Sicheng waved at him from the gallery of the salon, the place where he would attend the ceremony from, just like Yuta. Since they were the royal guards, they had a proper elevated position in case anything happened. It was very unlikely to happen, because the ceremony had been arranged to be small and among the closest court. It wouldn't be a good idea to put so many people inside a room with an elevated number of princes when Ignis' economy was shaking a little and the council was still touched with doubt. However, Sicheng and Yuta had their bows hanging at their back, with the cord crossing over their chest and drawing a threatening line over their neat outfits, worthy of a royal wedding. It was almost comical that they both decided to wear black jackets with white trimmings, like if they had united and assumed silently that they would be allies by the end of the day. 

Not much later, Lucas felt how the seat by his left side was also filled, in this case by Renjun who was still swinging his fan towards himself. He smiled at Lucas and angled a little so the air would reach him too. Lucas smiled back at him, dimly. 

At the right, a much higher personality sat down, gracing everyone with his unsure presence once and for all, planting more tranquility among the guests. 

—Greetings, and may the Gods be with you— said prince Hendery, prompting himself on the chair and letting Yangyang drag the excessively long edges of his tunic to gather it all in the space that corresponded to his seat. It sounded clicky when he moved, because all the bracelets, pendants and jewels hit against each other with a musical feeling that didn't go so well with his mood— What a wonderful evening for a wedding.

—Greetings, majesty— said Renjun politely, peeking from behind Lucas's rather tall figure— I think it's still a bit hot to be calling it the best day but this salon is quite pleasing. I am excited, if you allow me to say it. I never attended a wedding before. 

Lucas made a quick calculation in his mind and came to the conclusion that he himself never attended a wedding before, either. So far, the experience was not the most appropriate one to initiate the traditions with a good will. 

— It's always this hot, Renjun-ah, you wouldn't find a better day to celebrate it, anyways— laughed Yangyang, trying to shrug tension off. Renjun and him seemed to get along very well, and they quickly developed an animated friendship born from the talks they shared while accompanying the princes around and waiting for their meetings to end— You are always with those fans, do you know the fastest you fan yourself the hotter you feel? It's exercise… 

— I don't know, I don't want to risk it stopping. How is your majesty? That dress looks warm… 

— I am used to it, Renjun, do not worry much— said Hendery with a dim smile— A good bath tonight and it will be fixed… oh, Gods, there comes my brother… 

It was true indeed. The lights became more dim in a second and a soft thread of music started sounding in the salon just to greet Xiaojun, the groom Xiaojun, as he came out from the furthest door, making his elegant way through the carpet towards the shrine. 

Lucas could perfectly hear Renjun letting out a surprised gasp, holding onto his fan, for Xiaojun was wearing a thick attire with high boots, long white pants and a black vest that kept to his torso like a glove. A sash hugged his waist beautifully, and a white robe coated the entire set, peppered with the richest carved jewels and a golden crown with pendants on his hair. Hendery almost forgot it was his own brother, with whom he argued for the past days and months. He looked so gorgeous and noble that his heart couldn't help but feel a little proud at his view, when the youngest only wanted to slap both his cheeks. 

Lucas felt dizzy. 

The understatement of how hard witnessing all of it was going to be hit him like a chariot with horses included. Jungwoo was going to walk like that, across that carpet, in some minutes. He would be looking gorgeous, his blonde hair would be shining under the evening's sun, put all complicatedly with a crown and a white gown that would leave the page yearning, and wishing that just one thing was different. That he was the one waiting for him at the end of the walkway. 

The time, once again, became heavy and slow as he waited for him. The clock wasn't ticking at all inside Lucas' mind, and while Renjun fanned himself, accurate in his tempo like a metronome, and Hendery burned a hole on his brother's face for the weight put on his eyes, the page noticed that it wasn't his imagination. 

People have started murmuring, little by little, questions about where the other groom was or what time was the clock saying it was. 

— Renjun…

—I don't know— he immediately answered to the infante, aware of the situation and somehow nervous. The page was smart enough to see that something wasn't like it should be— He must be a little late, you know how heavy those clothes are… 

—Would he be okay?

Yangyang asked it, and it rang on Lucas' brain. Was he really fine?

Through the days that had passed, Jungwoo didn't exhibit a particular inclination to back up, he didn't show grief or despair, could he… do the egoistic thing on Lucas' behalf, knowing that the page couldn't? It was insane, he couldn't go away without his float and vassals, he couldn't hide inside their own palace… could he? 

Lucas' mind was working too fast, and he started to feel oppressed. There were too many things to think about, to worry about. He wasn't ready for all of it, nine days were nothing if he considered that he wanted to spend infinite days with him, there was a lack of preparation to hear him say "i do" even if it was pretending. That's not how he grew up, his mother taught him to take care of his future sweetheart, have a happy life being a family, he wasn't ready to change so abruptly to the secret paramour life. The page's emotions felt like a torrent, going up on his chest and flooding his interior until he got up with a jump. 

He couldn't help it but do it, be himself and act like so. 

His leg passed over Renjun easily to let him exit the row of chairs where they were sitting, and holding his breath and his heart, one in each hand, he gave a look to the prince Xiaojun, splendorous as he stood at the shrine. 

— I shall go and ascertain the prince is alright.

Thanks to the Gods that Xiaojun didn't do anything to stop his attempt to escape that awkward waiting to be stabbed right through the chest. 

He went out of the salon like a soul out of hell, and people couldn't do anything but murmur and murmur while Xiaojun blinked stupefied. His mask was starting to fall off, and the security he always had to face every diplomatic movement appeared wounded by the comes and goes of Jungwoo. 

He warned everyone he was  _ volatile _ but he forgot for a second to apply the advice to himself. He didn't think it could happen to him in that situation, his guards had been down. 

The scene at the main floor of the stance became more solid with tension. Noblemen were impatient, Hendery was a mess infused with a wrecking opposition to the ceremony that was still translucent on his countenance, Xiaojun was left with no words and the priest Haechan, young as he was, limited to wait behind the table for the groom to arrive. 

Seeing the unraveling of the situation, Sicheng turned a bit and gave a stare to Yuta. He had a pensive expression with his eyes lost in the shrine, leant over the railing of the gallery in a pose that seemed despreocupate but wasn't too much like so. 

It wasn't hard to read him, Sicheng learned his quirks with fits and starts.

— Shall we go check on him? 

Seeing Yuta hesitate was not usual, but he balanced his head from side to side, thinking deep about it. 

— Maybe we should, but not both of us, his majesty Xiaojun is still present and… 

Yuta cut it down as the front door screeched with all the weight of wood punishing its hinges, opening wide to let the sun fall onto the grand salon like a torrent of light. The general Dong Sicheng was swift putting his bow in position, tensing the cord with an arrow ready to fly fast across the air. He never lost no time, not when Jungwoo was so late and the nation so unstable, not again. 

He heard Yuta follow him, as his bow came to the scene, but then Sicheng had to squint his eyes to see the distance. 

His jaw fell open, catching the first glimpse of what appeared like an hallucination product of boredom or something similar. So recognizable and at the same time so different than before, it was so hard to believe that he was there at the threshold, the potent sun from Ignis framing his figure against the darker inside of the salon. It was the most discernible look someone could have among all over the nation. Umbrella in hand, he walked in with a paused composure born somewhere deep into his bitter feelings from that palace. Even though the silk was not as rich as the royal wardrobes, it was still red like a ruby, gracing the floor a little as he passed by, and dozens of white roses were  _ embroidered _ on the back and sleeves of the robe, trimmed in a gold thread that matched his skin. 

Sicheng looked around, first meeting the face of the General Na, whose expression didn’t show anything further than a mere curiosity, but fixing his attention down at the salon, Xiaojun had his mouth open next to the shrine and Yangyang was slowly standing up from his chair, turning back with the most dumbfounded expression he had in storage. 

Real as life itself, he was there. Sicheng slowly started pulling his bow down and putting the arrow back to the quiver. 

Indeed, he cleared his throat with a noteworthy sound, full of suggestions. 

— What are we celebrating? 

The question was genuine but it floated in the air, weightless, waiting for someone to abandon the silence that had expanded and wrapped around the palace and answer to him. 

The first person to break the new custom of quiet inquisitiveness, was the youngest of the princes, getting up from his chair on that mess of green silk and golden pendants with bird shapes. He walked towards the central walkway on which Jungwoo should have been marching with his security restored all over again, activating his brother too, who knitted his eyebrows so embittered that the shrink could be seen between them. 

—Oh no, Hendery, you haven't!— he accused, outraged as he walked the stairs down the shrine to make a stand in front of him— You couldn’t freaking pass without him!

— He has— solved Ten quickly, standing in the middle of the temple set up of the palace— And it damn well better be for an important reason.

—Your brother!— started Hendery, agitated like a wild river, and pointing to Xiaojun in his beautiful white suit and gold crown, as he went directly to expose his point— Not attending to any warning of his surroundings keeps acting like he can't see further than where his own hands end because he is blinded by his narcissism! 

— I did what it had to be done! 

—What did you do?— questioned Ten, not perceiving that he also broke through, and was yelling as much as the two foolish men that called him brother. 

—He is about to marry the Prince Jungwoo! Just because he is a coward and can't come up with another solution that doesn't leave us all like the easy kingdom who bends with the bare minimum blow of wind! 

—Did you just say Jungwoo? As in Kim Jungwoo?

Everyone, for a moment, stopped looking at the three brothers that were about to guillotine each other. Yangyang tiptoed to look over Ten's shoulder, where all the glances were falling over, on the man that came in after the red jewel and snuggled slightly against his back when the name of the royal was mented. Not too short, neither too tall, with blonde hair and a sharp line that defined his face. The large majority of presents started whispering about him, wondering where did a delight like him came from, or who he was. Nonetheless, it was undeniable that he had murmured the inquiry without hesitation and with a very displeased tone. 

Ten also seemed to get his gesture crooked and fulminated the middle brother with a piercing glance, the air filling in his lungs and his eyes closing to control the explosive mine blasting inside his chest.

No, not his Taeyong, that was his limit. No one had the right to hurt him and Jungwoo had taken that luxury for himself, something that he couldn’t spare. 

— Have you lost your mind!?— he finally exploded— From all the people in this world!? 

—Why!? Give me a better proposition to fix a conflict between our interests! Why is he so bad!? WHY!? 

—BECAUSE- 

The phrase never had a finish, and it was not because Ten was short of motives, no. It was because the palace shook from its foundation to the highest spike of the ceilings, moved by a deep roar that sounded like anything else could sound. It was a noise without an explanation among the earthly senses, it didn't have anything to be compared with. 

Ten, and all the assistants in that room, had a breath in, their eyes drifting upwards to the vault of the salon, for the noise seemed to come from the upper floors. 

The calm would only last for the blink of an eye. 

Finally, it wasn't raining but pouring. 


	18. Conquistador

It's well known that prince Ten had a special predilection for fantastic stories, whether they be reading at night with his brother, sang on board of an already sunken vessel with friends or seating on his boyfriend's lap as they shared the same armchair because space was something he valued differently since he lived with Taeyong at the sewing workshop. 

With all, he couldn't imagine, even in the most vivid fragments of his mind trained with all those tales, that a sound like that could exist. 

The ceiling above his head was carved with flowers and other geometrical shapes, and looking at it he felt, for the first time in a long while, frozen with hesitation and fear. His anger towards Xiaojun had dissipated in the short moment it took the roar to fill all the nooks of the royal residence of Ignis, but his silence didn’t matter, for Xiaojun was also looking up with wide eyes, and Hendery alternated a look to the vault and a quick peer to the prince dressed with white. 

Even Sicheng felt the necessity to lean out the railing of the gallery and angle his head up. 

It all happened in a moment not longer than a breath, but as soon as he stuck his head out, Yuta moved, activating the entire mechanism of actions like a butterfly effect. He grabbed the soldier’s belt and tugged back hard enough to make them both tumble back, just in time to save him from the second burst of sound that accompanied the disintegration of half of the vault that gave way beneath the weight of something so white and large it blinded the soldier for a minute, as it made its appearance at the Grand Salon with another blaring growl.

With a gasp, Ten’s feet made him back up a couple of meters, swiftly, dragging Taeyong with him as fast as he could, avoiding the falling rubbles of the vault and, by all means, the beast that landed just in front of them all and caused Hendery to scream shocked. 

—Don’t yell!— urged Renjun, rushing to the prince.

It was long, at least for fifteen meters and it’s powerful body outstretched and vibrated with an energy that made his white scales bristle, shining with a touch of opalescence over them, like a deep-sea fish. They exhaled a coldness that got to the assistants, despite the firing of its heart. 

His eyes were a wide pool of electric blue, dangerous although beautiful like the stained glass of the Silver Palace’s windows. They looked strong, as much as his pointy horns and teeth that were now showing due to the rapid twirl of his tail that sent a couple of rows of chairs flying off across the salon. 

It was an exact copy of the carved dragon of stone of the plaza, at Ventum Anguis. Or, more so, the statue of the plaza imitated this one. 

By the time Ten drove his hand under his robe and unsheathed his sword, the present court was running terrified and out of the salon, but both his brothers reminded there with the will to fight and defend that reign of madness they had made to be their home.

— Is that a fucking dragon!?— Said Winwin back on his feet as both him and the general Na Yuta moved across the gallery to find the best angle to aim at it.

— I told you not to scream!— repeated Renjun anxiously. Mark walked to the page and pulled out his weapon to protect him, very convinced of his actions and with his eyebrows furrowed like the bravest of the fighters in front of that creature— You will only anger him more!

—He is already angry.

Yuta had a point, the pale animal was crouching, groaning with the sound of menace in front of Xiaojun and Hendery. To that reasoning, which with he strongly agreed, he released the black arrow but it didn't wound him, for his scales stopped the hit. However, it made him turn to the direction of the projectile and move fast, with its serpentine motion, climbing with his sharp claws onto the narrow gallery with force enough to make more stone break apart from the walls and railings falling on the floor with all the hydrangeas that were decorating the salon. 

— Run!

It was not a moment to question Sicheng's orders, for once, and Yuta ran after him while the dragon chased them with a furious gowling that made all his teeth show, white and pointy. Nonetheless, the space was too narrow for him to move fluently and soon it came out, slipping under one of the arcs that kept it standing. 

His landing made the floor shiver close to the couple of couturier and painter, the latter shoving his dear with him behind a column. When he sang the Three Dragons' Tale, a thing he had practiced more than once while he was drinking or bored, he didn't picture their tails so consistent. It was definitely stronger than the stone of the columns, that broke almost as fast as they had been able to hide behind it. With his eyes closed trying to calm his wild heartbeat, Ten felt the rain of dust and pebbles falling on his hair and sounding metallic against the two clips he was wearing on his hair, and when he opened them again, he saw Taeyong sat on the floor just as clenched as him.

— If we get out of this one and save ourselves  _ again,  _ promise me one thing— said Taeyong when their eyes met. Ten hummed with the interrogant, already ready to commit to some promise regarding how they would never put a foot in that place again— Promise me you'll marry me.

Tension takes the innermost abstractions of people, and either scared that the situation turned everything hard for them again before he could say it, or overwhelmed with sentiments to a point where he had to be vocal about them, Taeyong phrased his intent. 

The painter was speechless for a moment while the dragon still roared behind them, but his subsconcience quickly clicked and pulled him back to the palace where he was sitting on the floor face to face with Taeyong. They both ran from behind one column to the next one, which was also pulverized. 

He eyed his boyfriend, his breath heavy out of effort and strain. He didn’t know if he should smile or put on a brave face, but he knew what he wanted to answer. 

— There's no possible realm in which I could say no to that. 

They ran to the next column. This time it wasn't torn apart, but it shook with the thump of a hit when the animal took a run-up against the prince wearing emerald green, catching him from the long sleeve and dragging him as it perched on the wall. 

Yuta had also drawn his sword, long and thin with an incredibly sharp blade that cut the material of prince Hendery’s robe as soon as the guard swung from his hold on Sicheng's hand from the gallery, releasing the hold of the dragon's pulling him towards his claws and making him fall with a small tud over the shrine. Yuta was pulled back up fast by the soldier and continued to move, not daring to stay in one spot and made themselves the target. 

— Majesty, move out of there!— commanded Yuta as he closed one eye and aimed to the back of the dragon's neck, where his flesh looked more tender. Hendery took a leap and sprinted away from the beast, but the dragon followed him like a prey. 

— Oh, for Elthos, full of deep Grace— rambled Ten, leaving his refugee behind the pillar to grab his brother and hunch with him behind the chairs piled for the wedding. 

The white dragon brushed the floor with his tail and knocked more and more things over, including Yangyang, who fell on his back. Ten seized his sword ready to swing it in front of him as soon as the dragon came along near him. But it was only a preventive measure, given the fact that Xiaojun tossed a piece of stone right at his head, hitting with accuracy and stunning him for a moment long enough for him to take out his sword and positioning to attack. 

It roared louder than before, even, but notwithstanding the ominousness of the situation, Lucas made his appearance, flying down the stairs with empty hands and a panicked expression painted all across his face. 

—Jungwoo!!

Roaring this name, he ran in front of the majestic creature just as if his entire sanity vanished already in favour of the tension and didn't have anything to lose anymore. Everyone turned, staggered to a remarkable degree, for it was the most outstandingly insane act they had ever witnessed. He wasn't carrying any weapon, it was almost suicidal, Ten knew it was, but as soon as he gave one step forward with the sword, Taeyong grabbed his wrist and pushed back again. 

The expression on this last one's face was a portrait of overwhelm.

—Lucas, beware!— said Hendery peeking from behind the chair, but the page wasn't listening.

—Jungwoo— he repeated— Jungwoo stop!! 

Ten quickly gave a look to Taeyong to check if they both heard the same thing but he was still behind him, wrapping, now, his arms around his boyfriend's waist in his remaining act of protecting him. The youngest could feel his heartbeat pressing on him, running too fast, and his lips were parted in a dumbstruck grimace.

—Lucas, are you insane!? Move aside!!— screamed Sicheng loading his arc with an arrow and, at considerable extent worried for his best friend, aiming to the white dragon's eye in order ro blind him— What are you doing!?

—No! Don't shoot at him!— he pleaded. Then he turned to the dragon again— Jungwoo, listen to me!! You are not like this, I know you are tender!! Come back, please, this doesn't have to be a fight!! 

The animal growled, low, with a tentative sound, lowering his head more in front of Lucas as all the presents were astonished with the scene, mute for the succession of events going on in front of their eyes. However, the white creature twirled his tail a little and leaned his head on the red carpet. Sicheng would have denied everything if someone else had tried to convince him, but it was actually happening and he was witnessing it from the open balcony of the salon. 

Yuta frowned, putting his own arc down and going closer to the desert's soldier that stood by his side at the salon's gallery to murmur at him.

—Stay still, very still, don't shoot.

—Don't be loud— added Renjun in a whisper, still behind Mark. 

Everyone was standing still, anyhow, stopped all across the salon, frozen and silent like scattered chess pieces on a board as Huang Xuxi extended his arm out and carefully moved towards him.

It was so slow that Ten had to pay special attention to him to see that he was, indeed, moving until he finally touched the pale scales of the dragon's forehead, without a movement at first, and trying a very careful caress after, when he saw it kept the composure. 

—Jungwoo— repeated Lucas again, with a calmer tone, no one really daring to question, at that rate, the health of his brain for the act he was undertaking— It is fine, I'm here, let's… let's calm down now.

The dragon pushed his head a bit, almost like it would like to snuggle on Lucas's chest, thing that the page indulged. He opened his arms, almost clinging on its scales, holding on one of his horns for a second so he would keep his balance as his other hand cosseted the opalescent white surface of his skin.

—That's...—mumbled Renjun from behind the counselour with his eyes wider by the second—A new thing.

—You gotta know—continued Lucas with the speech that had everyone agape— That I am the luckiest man alive knowing that you are mine, even if we don't get married at the end, I don't care… I would still know who has your heart at edge. Jungwoo, really, I love you. Come back to me and let's stop this before someone gets hurt.

It hollered, really loud like an enormous tiger coming out from the depths of the jungle, and then it became a deafening high-pitched sound so strident that made everyone cover their ears and fall on the floor like if there was a full entire hurricane inside the room. 

It felt like it.

Ten held Taeyong to his chest with a will of not letting something go never seen before in him, really fearful that he would disappear in between all that wind. It couldn't happen again that he leave him behind in the middle of a storm. 

It was so strange, but then suddenly all the energy and sound coming from the dragon collapsed in an explosion of light. No one barely understood a thing, they were too disorientated from the loud buzz to do so, the next thing that Ten could register after the fear had vanished, was the pretty body of who, he supposed, it must be the prince Kim Jungwoo falling on the marble floor with a dull sound, just giving Lucas time enough to hug his hips and fall on his butt by his side dragged by the collapsing weight of his body. 

They made a strangely balanced match.

There was no need to double check if Jungwoo was still breathing, under all of that bubble of the mess of white and blue material, pearls, stones, and so on that composed the expensive wedding suit; there was a clear vision of the prince's chest rising and falling at abnormal speed. His nose was bleeding, too, and a couple of arrows from Sicheng and Yuta had scratched his skin superficially when they brushed between the scales, but little cared Lucas if he could get stained with blood, he buried his face on Jungwoo's blonde hair and inhaled deeply, probably trying to relinquish from all the stress he had inside his body, running wild. 

— _ Fuck _ — cooed Taeyong— One hundred and one times fuck.

—Hush, baby— said Ten to soothe him, sounding so unreal he could barely believe the situation. He took Taeyong's hand, that had been resting over his chest, and let him intertwine their fingers together, feeling how he squeezed his hand nervously. They had ended up holding each other quite tight without planning it— He is not going to hurt you.

—Oh no, what scares me is that he hurts  _ you _ .

He was more frightened now than when he saw the dragon.

—Jungwoo… can you hear me?— said Lucas tenderly, parallel to this, gathering the major amount of patience he needed for it. The called prince, still with his eyes closed, nodded very weakly and revolved between his arms. 

—Your hands are so warm… 

—Desert things, you know.

—Yes… Ah… I love you too.

Lucas smiled, brushing away the blonde hair that was sticking to Jungwoo's forehead for the cold sweat wetting his skin. For a second he thought about just leaning on his mouth and kiss him just as tenderly as he had been doing, lingeringly, for the nine prior days. 

Xiaojun cleared his throat, whatsoever. 

—So you are going to stand there after all of this show without explaining anything? 

Lucas threw a venomous glance at him, in front of all the presents. He didn't care anymore about appearances, they were nothing but a stupid bell that made everything tangled and confused and lead them to that kind of things. Nations were just land, princes were just men that played a game of who could be more snobby with their decisions, and somewhere in between there was him and Jungwoo knocking it off on the garden's bench or in the guest room's bed.

What would he have to give to live like himself?

—Go on— he said, getting up and putting his hands up, followed immediately by the sound of a dozen of swords being drawn with the blades pointing at him— It’s clear enough, right? Make them arrest me.

—Don't dare— answered Jungwoo fast, despite his troubled phrasing and his pose still sat on the ground— You will know my rage if you dare to touch him.

Expressions everywhere only showed more and more confusion. Sicheng had frowned, not liking the idea of having to detain him; Taeyong still had his mouth open and Ten's eyes were going from Jungwoo, to his brother and finally to Lucas trying to decipher the chords that maintained them trapped onto a web. As for Hendery, he dared to finally walk down a couple of steps and direct his fullest effort to the second brother.

—Oh, come on, are you even thinking about it? You keep defending this senseless marriage with all you have, just for what? How far are you going to take your ego? 

—This is not about me, this is about our country, all I do is try to protect everyone.

—You are not protecting anyone with this, you only would make him more powerful giving him more rights than he already owns. Look at him, he is a… he is a dragon… but you are so scared of having to fight him you would give him all you have without complaining, you are not a prince you are just a pleaser.

—Shut up, you don't know anything!— exploded Xiaojun, drawing his sword also, but only to point at his brother that immediately stopped in his tracks, taken aback— You speak as if you are the wisest man here, not everything is so easy, can't you see how hard would be to get our troops up and fight against him?

—So you are going to send the arrest order against Xuxi? He is-

—Well, I should!

—Enough! That's enough!— interfered Ten, his voice becoming louder and also drawing his weapon to the middle child of Ignis, as a warning sign. Then his eyes drifted to Lucas, standing next to Jungwoo, gathering energy and trying to get up on his feet as the page pulled him up carefully by his hand. He wrapped his arms around him, which was the last piece everyone could have needed to piece everything together. Ten sighed quite deep— What have you done, you fool? 

—I guess I have a weakness towards the ones that hold a crown on their heads— he said with a crooked smile, trying to ease the tension, but the mood made him look at the floor quickly to bite his lips before he could continue— I don't know, love seems to be a deceitful player.

Ten held his gaze, paused and still severe. 

Is not like he couldn't understand what he was saying just while Taeyong held his hand in a way so comforting he wouldn't have imagined it actually existed until he tried it out. But with all, he couldn't give him the full reason. 

—I would like to speak up— said Jungwoo this time, walking to the front, to put himself in the middle of the salon. It was tense enough to hear Sicheng pulling the cord of the bow again but his stare was so intense that all his soldiers, including Mark, dropped swords back to the sheaths. The prince's energy had been slightly coming back and he stood with dignity, brushing his eyes across every assistant— Since this has to do with me.

—Please proceed— said Xiaojun.

—When I came here, all I wanted to do was achieve a crushing victory on this kingdom. Simple and clear, I wanted the land and the crown, and I knew it would be easy to take them for me with the royal house still shaking from a loss. 

He looked at Ten with the last sentence, and witnessing it was enough for Taeyong to know it was a jab of remorse to his beloved. Really, Hendery could see how the couturier's eyes went from fear to anger in a split second, making him look like a fierce animal.

— You see!— said the youngest prince— I can tell all of you why we can't let him fly free across this nation, he is a severe threat.

—Let him finish!— roared Lucas, trying to avoid a peak up of his ballistic state, if that was of any sense after sarcastically imperete a king-in-waiting to arrest him and demanding a prince to shut his mouth. 

Hendery shut up and gave Jungwoo a look of conformism so he would keep going, resuming with a breath, the speech about his intentions. A full detailed explanation of them that had Lucas's heart hanging from a string. He wished for their thing to materialize into something… real. 

Better said, stable, that it was real was a sure thing for him. 

—It's all I wanted. I know it's greedy from me, but everything I fancy, like or find valuable, I have to have it. When something gets in my brain it's hard for me to take it out, and all that I can do is do everything that it takes until I end possessing it. When I came here, all I wanted was Ignis but then…— he gave a look to Lucas. The page's breath hitched— All I wanted to possess was Xuxi. Maybe with a bit of diversion at first, when I invited him to dance, but ending with all of it riddled in my chest. And yes, I confess it, I am having an affair with him… so today I found out I cannot pretend I want this wedding after having a sip of that water. 

—But majesty, we can't leave like this, what kind of expedition is that? People would talk… specially if you carried with it until the depths of it— protested counselor Mark, speaking for the first time in a while and reactivating the atmosphere that had deepened into an awkward silence they all used to stare deeply at Lucas and let, for a moment, their minds fly and question how long had they been carrying the secret and what kind of things happened in between both the prince and the page— And besides, he is a…

—Peasant?— cut Jungwoo, bitterly— He is wittier than some princes I have known, and stronger. And don't get me started with the details regarding his way of loving, a court doesn't have the right to know about that delicacy, in the first place. I can do what I want, actually, I am the heir, and if I'm not wrong, I can have the consort that I most like as long as he is fine with it. 

—That's it— cooed Hendery— Just go away from here, I don't want to see you anymore unless it is strictly necessary. 

—But I'm sure that you, majesty, can understand that we can't go back to Ventum Anguis just as we came and pretend nothing happened. We would hang the medal of defeat on our lapels with that movement, the kingdom would weaken.

—We can say it was a friendly visit to create closer ties.

—With five galleons full of soldiers?—scoffed Mark sardonically— Let me point out that it's far-fetched. 

—But actually...— noted a voice with a tint of shyness that went growing more decisive as he spoke. Huang Renjun, the page of Prince Jungwoo was raising his fan above his head so people would pay attention to him. It could be said that it was unusual to see a page directly intervening in a discussion like that, counting out Lucas who was directly involved, it would be almost impossible, but he made himself stand out. Renjun had guts, all about him spoke about it, from his gestures to his voice— There's something that we could take from him. 

— Excuse me?

— I mean, if his majesty is so engaged in taking Lord Lucas as his companion, I can testify that I have never seen someone who could tame him before. As a dragon. It could keep us from disastrous outcomes, with all my respects, majesty.

—He is a Windbreaker— chuckled Jungwoo in response, admitting it was Lucas who could drown his rage quite effectively wether it was a tantrum or rage in the scale of a white beast with fangs.

Ten raised his eyebrow, his attention going to his former page. They looked at each other knowing the irony of the situation, but, after all the adventures and problems, Ten had said already that he liked a stubborn mercer more.

—Seriously?— said Ten with an incredulous chuckle.

—Seriously. Someone who can speak to the wind and knows how to hold it down… sounds like Windbreaker to me. I have never known one before. 

—Well, then I agree with lord Renjun, it's a fair payment— said Ten, for the sake of a response when Xiaojun had been left speechless, fulfilling a bit of Hendery's statements about his cowardice. He moved towards Jungwoo, making Taeyong's heart race a little bit faster than it should have, maybe, unaware of the unbending strength he put in his eyes. Taeyong had nothing to worry about, after all, Ten wouldn't forget that Jungwoo was the man who made his lover go through tough times, and the memories of how a prince should order people around and be irrefutable was still somewhere in his mind— Lord Mark, is the acquisition of a talent like that enough for you to justify your trip and leave?

Mark looked at Jungwoo, and so did everyone else.

The prince, however, had eyes only for Lucas. They had been magnetized, holding each other's pupils with a tremulous vibe of sentimentality. It was so warm and pleasant to look at him that Lucas could have ran onto his arms in the exact middle of that salon, but Jungwoo was faster, taking his hand, rubbing gentle circles on the reverse, while the other just boldly went to the back of his head to get him closer to him. 

Hendery blinked fast and bashfully retired his eyes from them. 

—Xuxi, only asking you about this would make it fair. I know this is your country, the place that saw you born and grow up, learn, play and much more. There where I live it might be different and you may feel like you don't belong. Somehow I can't be greedy enough when it comes to you. I can’t force you to follow me somewhere that would make you unhappy.

—You don't know if it's going to make me feel that different. To be completely honest, I believe that wherever I am, if you are there, I would be able to feel comfortable.

—What if my mind shifts?— asked Jungwoo so very softly, implying he was really worried about something like that happening— If it ends. 

—If that happens I would go with all the things you already gave me and I would know it's my real time to go, when we want, not when we are told to— Lucas sighed, his exhale soaked in mildness and his eyes fondly looking at Jungwoo’s just before they slipped to his lips— It’s worthwhile for me, who cares it if ends melting away while it’s still unscathed.

Jungwoo nodded and smiled. 

—Then let me say… let me say that you are not obligated to anything, but if you want, I would just be so pleased that you can come with me and be my consort. The real one, without anyone else, nor hiding. What do you th-

It was not the most correct thing to do, but in fact, a couple formed by a prince and a (foreing) page was already skipping law, so Xuxi cut the long vacuous talking of the blonde and pressed a kiss on his lips, finally. 

He touched him, still careful when his hand held his chin to pull him up and kiss him deeper, no matter if he had seen him be the most powerful and majestic dragon of the Nine Acts of Dragons, Jungwoo would forever be his cherished jewel, and so his strokes were always gentle. 

—Words travel fast pushed by the wind, let's be brief.

Jungwoo smiled, knowing all what he had to know. He shortened his distance with Lucas again and kissed his lips between his, so warm and puffy, like a exotic fruit of their oasis exploding on his mouth. 

—With abridged words, Huang Xuxi, I love you.

—I love you too, a whole lot. Of course I will go with you. 

Barely anything could make Lucas come out from the marvelous feeling of conquering him, deep into the eyes of the silver prince, he felt the refreshing feeling of his heart pumping the blood through his veins, feeling every millimeter of his nerves standing at ease. Jungwoo was his, and he was for Jungwoo, finally understanding why he had to wait so long. It was worth the mistakes, the confusion and the wait if the final result was the smile that made Jungwoo's elegant pink lips curl, his exhale crushing over his face and the adoration shining on his dark pupils of a prince. 

But suddenly something caught his attention, making him peak from over the shoulder coated in white and blue that belonged to his partner. It was like a vision, a mirage, so ominous; but one by one all the soldiers, as well as Mark, Renjun and even Yuta at the top of the gallery and Ten with a bit of hesitation, had bowed down in front of him. 

His brain slipped a second to do the maths, and his eyes blinked twice before he understood that he, where he was standing, was no longer a peasant. 

He quickly looked down to face Jungwoo to find him with that amused expression toying with his features. He lifted an eyebrow. Lucas felt a bit nervous, all of a sudden, but he couldn't help the grin that took over his face. 

—Salute,  _ my prince.  _


	19. Fire flies.

At first, when Hendery stopped shedding tears on his brother Ten's shoulder, who he was tightly holding in his arms; and turned around to check on the boy standing behind them as Ten gave him a gentle gesture, he had thought that a man with that face and demeanor would be intimidating.

_ "Look Hendery, this is… this is Taeyong. He is my sweetheart" _

He was slightly taller than his brother, with a platinum blonde and ruffled hair that let some strands shine in a purplish tone, framing a face that was as sharply marked as enchanting. Maybe, for a second, Hendery had considered that he looked rough, but it faded away when his lips curled up in a smile and they greeted him, suddenly looking like an edible strawberry dessert. He had big irises, as well, dark and sparkly like a fawn’s, making his face kinder despite the white scar he had besides one of his eyes. 

Someone like Ten wouldn't tolerate spending so much time with an unkind man, whatsoever.

—Huangheng!— called his brother, sounding a teeny tiny bit severe and startling him with his given name. The youngest one raised his head from where it was resting, on his- or better said “their”- bed, ripping a chuckle by the boy who was laying there in the first place as soon as his expression changed, like caught doing something he shouldn't by Ten, staring from the door with amused eyes— What are you doing here? Go to your room.

—Don't be like that, let me stay longer. Please? 

—No, stop harassing the poor Taeyong, it's late.

— I am not harassing him, I am socializing with my brother-in-law.

Ten's face became a poem when he heard his brother call Taeyong like that, out of a sudden, taking the right to treat him that closely. It was new to him to have that acceptance, and, even not really knowing what to do, he felt like he would blush and he didn't want to. 

He looked at Taeyong, seeking an answer.

—Let him be, Tennie, he is just talking to me nicely. 

_ —Tennie _ ?— Questioned Hendedy, back at the conversation. Ten rolled his eyes, but also giggled and approached the bed to sit on the edge. His bed in the palace fitted them all, even with Taeyong laying at one side, fanning himself to avoid the humid heat, and Hendery laying facedown, posted on his elbows very close to Taeyong like if he was just a child who waits for the adults to play with him. In the time that Ten had used to go and have a conversation with Xiaojun, the youngest brother had opted to interrogate their new guest— You call my brother like that? 

—That's right. You don't like it, majesty? 

—I like it. Can I call you Tennie?— Asked Hendery to his brother. 

The implied one had opened his mouth to answer. 

—I would rather if you not— said Taeyong first, for the surprise of both princes that looked at his face right away, Ten specially interested— I'm very fond of the nickname, excuse me but I have to ask you to have it all for myself.

Ten was looking at him from the other side of the wide bed, as Taeyong looked back. He knew for the reflection of his golden eyes that that statement had made his heart accelerate. 

As for Hendery, he kept talking with his new family member that seemed to attract all of his possible attention.

—Okay. Then I'll still call him Ten. Or  _ Qin-Qin _ .

—Qin-Qin? Why?

—No…—whined Ten, regretting the moment he took to introduce Taeyong to him— I don't think it's necessary to… 

—Because he likes kisses.

—Oh, does he?— joked Taeyong a bit smug and still holding the gaze of his beloved sitting with his arms crossed at the far edge of the bed— I didn't know that, I am genuinely surprised… 

Finally the resort clicked in Hendery's mind with the sarcastic tone of Taeyong’s voice, turning to his brother to see the stare that he was giving to him. Quickly, he felt a bit awkward, as if he wanted to shrink and disappear. It made his skin itch with a special type of second hand embarrassment, just like people experience when they are looking at something they should leave for intimacy. 

—Oh… oh— only his clumsy vocalization of realization woke his sibling up from his spell, making him turn back at Hendery with a questioning face. Under the attention of Taeyong, holding, in fact, a really big guffaw, Hendery faked a yawn pretty badly to escape that situation— I think it's too late, I have to go to bed now, Lord Taeyong, it has been an honor… 

—The honor is mine. Sleep tight. 

When Hendery went away and the door closed again behind his back, Ten shook his head slightly and chuckled. He wouldn't say he didn't miss him in particular, after all, he was back in the palace because of him and with all the things that had happened finally calming down, he could take the time to look at Hendery with endearment now.

—He is a case, isn't he?— said Taeyong, sharing laughter and crawling to the end of the bed to wrap his arms around Ten's waist, giving him a peck on his cheek. 

He smiled to himself when he did. 

It was a relief for the mercer that he let him touch him again, for the previous week had been a mess in which the prince's skin thinned a lot and often brushed him away. His mood had been a disaster and although Ten wasn't ignoring him, of course, he wasn't as sparkly as he tended to be, and for sure, not as touchy. 

He had grown used to the kind of Ten who kissed his cheek every morning and let him play with his hair every moment. 

Ten was an independent boy and liked to be here and there, but he still remained very clingy when he was in the mood, and Taeyong was a close contact kind of person that often leaned on his neediness.

After reading the red letter, Ten had knitted his eyebrows and an argument bloomed in between them, about how they could manage the issue. It was tough to go through it. The youngest said he couldn't ignore the call, and Taeyong perfectly knew it was because he felt guilty and irresponsible leaving his brothers by themselves after what Hendery wrote down. 

_ "Our time has run out, isn't it?" _

_ "Don't you ever say that. Our time is not like an hourglass" _

Ten's resilience broke, and he started crying harder than ever, pulling his belongings into the stupid chest. He refused to let Taeyong follow him in something so dangerous, but the stubborn couturier insisted that he wouldn't be letting Ten go by himself, and even less when he was in front of the thick tears falling from his eyes.

He begged him, until Ten finally accepted. 

After all of that, the five days of travel across the sea started with a cold wave. The captain Doyoung had gotten a new vessel, finally,  _ The East's Chrysanthemum _ , and seeing both of them appear at his front door with that sulky faces and swollen eyes, he accepted the job of bringing them to Ignis again for half the price he should have charged them.

Summarizing, Taeyong knew his lover had a good reason to be sad and distant, but it was colding to see him behave like so, so having him on his arms and happy again was a big felicity for him. 

—What was he asking you? Was he being a total nuisance? Should I scold him tomorrow?

—Not really— he said amused. 

Taeyong didn't have brothers, and his elder sister was already living on her own when all the "incident" at the Silver Palace happened, so he didn't have any clue of her position. So thinking about it, Ten's family was the only legal family he preserved… counting, more or less, with the bloodline irregularities between the princes.

— He seems to like you a lot, more than he has liked anyone in a while. I am sorry that meeting Xiaojun had been a little colder, I don’t think he is very open with what I have done… and he is especially tense today.

— Well, I can’t blame him, he had one hell of a day with all this wedding thing and also a dragon attack and his brother coming back from heaven to lecture him… I gotta say you really can act scary in those moments…

— Don’t say that!— he protested, getting snugglier between his arms— I am not that type.

— I know, but allow me to be shocked that my little painter is so skilled with a foil.

— I manage swordsmanship just fine, like a mediocre prince, nothing too crazy…

— It's kind of sexy.

— Okay, I am skilled— admitted Ten just for the advantage of it with a chuckle— But what was Hendery going on and on about?

— Ah, he is actually very kind to me, and funny. He took a while talking to me about you and how you are with him, then asking questions about my life, basically. And some about how I met you… and he asked if you soften like a cake when you are with me…

He pulled out a face, exaggerating the gesture for the comic effect that he knew would make Taeyong smile and laugh with that squeaky sounds he made every time he laughed hard or teased someone else. 

—Soft like a cake? Who asks that kind of question?

—Someone that wants to have a sneak peak into the romantic side of his eldest brother, I guess.

—I bet he was just being a little shit, he knows I can be soft— Ten turned around on his arms, enveloping Taeyong in a hug that put them both to comfortably rest on the bed. Taeyong examined the surroundings as he listened to him talk, watching the soft red curtains that hung above and around them like an abundant cloud of dreams, translucent enough to project red shadows and highlights over Ten's skin. It suited him pretty well. The pillows that gathered at the head of the bed, the carved roses on the wood, and the black Persian cat that jumped onto the mattress and purred as she flopped next to his long gone owner. Of course they’d took the time to take the pet with them that time when they decided to leave— I am not ashamed of being soft, love comes in many shapes, and I adore him… is not the same love I have with you but is the same type of sentiment, so he knows that I'm not a cold-hearted bastard. I'm just… measured with the vocalization.

—Sure, sure… softie— teased Taeyong as he shook Ten in his arms and played with him a little, giving him a rain of kisses on his cheeks. 

—Look who's talking, my crybaby.

He giggled, before he could rest his back on the bed comfortably and stay there for a while, rejoicing in the restored happiness of their simple daily life. Although it was in a much more expensive frame that day. 

They didn't need to be doing much to have fun, being together like that made it more than fine. They could spend hours relaxing on the bed and chatting about their day, or the breakfast they would like to have the next day, tell stories they knew, invent new ones… or just simply be themselves quietly for a while. 

Not talking was also great with Taeyong, it wasn't awkward and there wasn't any impulse to fill the empty space with vacuous words. They could fill it better with tranquility and their comfort for each other, and Ten was actually fascinated by that. He had always been rather talkative when he was around people, truth is that he needed his moments of quietness, but he used to save them for when he was alone with his mind. But Taeyong had brought him a different type of quietude that he quickly fell for. It wasn't a soundless silence, it was a very hushed sound of breathing and ambient sounds that kept his soul steady. 

— So...— started Taeyong again, lowkey startling his lover who was more than lost in his thoughts when he spoke. Ten paid attention to him with a glance and a humming sound— What's up with that... humongous bathtub? 

The youngest couldn't help but burst into laughter, from the chosen adjective he had placed in his sentence, highlighting that he had never seen a bathtub like that; to the way he himself wasn't expecting that turn. He laid on his side and prompted himself on his elbow, completely awake after the moment of fun, to look at Taeyong. 

—What do you mean? That's my bathtub, nothing else. 

—Are you serious? You bathed everyday in that swimming pool? 

—Well, yes, I try to wash myself everyday— Taeyong gave him a sarcastic look, for the humoristic tilt Ten was having. It made him giggle even more but then he gave him a tender gesture— Do you want to try it?

—Can we?

— _ We? _ — Taeyong shrieked slightly, becoming a bit shy with Ten's smirk. It was hard to believe he still had shyness in front of him, but the youngest had discovered that behind the initial pride, Taeyong used to shield himself, he was just a lovely and playful man that liked to have someone who took care of him, in some ways— I didn't know you were counting me into the plan.

—I mean, it's big enough for both… and the bathroom… I have been taking a look around, this room is so fancy it's almost scandalous, so... we could go to that bathtub and try that thing that we have been talking about.

Ten knew what he was referring to with that, although he didn't expect it at that time. After an entire trip and a not so laid-back welcome to the palace of Ignis, one of the things he was expecting the least was Taeyong to get experimental with sex. 

But honestly, thinking about it thoroughly made it make sense, since Ten had put more than clear that he didn't want to stay in Ignis for long, and that they would be back at their workshop as soon as possible. The mercer had agreed to that, counting with the fact that none of them were especially comfortable living among the courts. However, he could easily distinguish when he had an opportunity and how to make the most out of it, and being at Ten's former room with all of the elements that it implied, would make him regret it if they didn't get playful for at least a moment. 

Despite how fiscally tired they could be, it really didn't matter if their mind was fresh and clear. 

—Now? I don't know if you…

Taeyong puffed, his bangs flying off his forehead a little, and then pouted. Normally Ten didn't hesitate a lot about being close and intimate with him, and the eldest wasn't very used to a no from him.

He lowered his head to kiss him, all the passion flowing from him towards his lover on purpose, favoring his predisposition to give in. And to enhance the chances, he pulled his leg in between his with a tint of dare that permeated on his tongue brushing across his lips. 

Ten backed up a couple of centimeters to look at him, his gaze questioning but his eyes clouding with intent. He clicked his tongue and got up from the bed with a sigh.

—Let me fill it for you.

—I'm letting you fill whatever you want.

Ten turned to him, under the open arcs that connected his bathroom with his bedroom, to see how Taeyong was laying on his side over the bed with an expression that was both a shake for his heart and an invitation for his blood pressure to rise. 

He sighed once more, disappearing inside the huge bathroom until Taeyong could hear the murmur of water falling in the tub and the subtle vapor flowing out of the bathroom. It smelt like roses, more and more as the water rose and Taeyong couldn't wait no more to join him, rushing through the arcs to see that, indeed, the water was full of red petals. The water faucet wasn't even so, but a small waterfall that poured from an opening on the wall. 

He had never seen anything like that, but it soon lost its importance with Ten pulling from the collar of his robe slightly. 

—Come here, let me help you with that— For the benevolence of helping him with a complicated attire like the one he was borrowing from the royal wardrobe, dressing like one of the courtiers of Ignis; or for the pleasure of undressing Taeyong himself, Ten started peeling the robe from his skin with a delicate care and some kisses on his face that were worth the paused pace— Are you sure you want it right now? It has been a tense day…

Taeyong nodded, with the metallic dull noise of two small hair pins that Hendery had insisted he should wear too, and that he indulged letting the youngest prince clip them on his locks to pull his fringe back. 

It had been a while since the eldest had asked for an encounter like that, he really wanted Ten to take the lead. The problem was that there was a long time since he last tried that with someone so, to say it in some sort of way, he was out of shape for it. 

— I have been trying to make it easier… 

— Is not like you need to convince me, I am so up to it, I just want to not hurt you— He said fusing into a melting kiss as he slowly pulled a sleeve down from Taeyong's shoulder— Gods forgive me for what I am about to say, but I don't think you know how good you look wearing those clothes, it makes me even pity the way I'm going to take them off one by-

The door sounded as someone powerfully knocked on it. Ten sighed, his phrase cut midway and their exotic alluring aura broken. 

They looked at each other for a second and then, they burst into laughter. The youngest buried his face on Taeyong's shoulder with an amused frustration and groaned.

— I told you this life was impossible. Who's there?— he cooed, going to close the water tap while his couple pulled his sleeve up again and tied the belt that held everything together, looking at Ten with sad eyes and not putting much effort into making it look great. He still had the chance to use that loose fit of the blue tunic to resume his intent later on. 

—Ten, it's me— there weren't many chances for him to not recognize that voice that had accompanied him for a lifetime. Lucas, although he sounded a bit hesitant this time and maybe even embarrassed, had the same confident tone as always— Do you have a moment? Are you busy? 

The room's owner pulled the door open without pause, discovering the page behind it. 

But he was no longer a page and definitely he didn't look like one. The royal look suited him well being so well-built and handsome. He had a white shirt on, so vaporous and see-through that it was nothing more than a veil, the V of the collar falling low enough to make all the silver chains shine against his warm skin, just like the drop shaped pearls hanging on his earlobes. His hair was black and smooth as it was pushed back at the front to show the perfect profile of his face, while the back was adorned simply with a bunch of silver anemones. 

— For both our sakes I'm going to say I wasn't busy— said Ten, keeping the seriousness just for some seconds before breaking into a mischievous smirk that lighted Lucas's face up. It was so great to see they were fine with each other… even when some things might be making their opinions differ. The painter pushed the door completely open— Come in,  _ majesty.  _

— Don't… don't call me that!— whined Lucas loudly as he let his butt flop over the bed with full confidence, for once— It’s not like we are two strangers that can’t be on familiar terms.

— It's annoying, uh? Now you know how it feels.

Ten laughed, as he sat by his side and let the cat step over his lap, becoming a ball of sleepy black fur that purred as Ten caressed her lovely. It was a whole new picture but he didn't dislike it, for he had been craving for a change all his existence. Even if he had to get used to the new dichotomy, everything in life has to be step by step. He wouldn't be waking one morning with everything different and settled, bricks had to be placed one by one to build a temple.

— It's insane, all of it, I know— said Lucas admitting to Ten and himself the feelings that he had been keeping secret. It had no point anymore, because everyone discovered already that he and Jungwoo were a thing but he just hoped Ten could listen to him telling his deep thoughts, just like in the old times, not so long ago. He needed him to support his doubts, and to brush off his insecurities. 

The painter tilted his head to the side with that focused expression, almost as if he was about to rate a canvas, but Xuxi knew that meant he could breathe again. 

— You love him? 

— Thoroughly. 

— Oh...— Ten chuckled, his emotions stirring between the negativity towards the silver prince and the happiness of seeing Lucas so radiant. He could have expected the direct answer, anyways, after seeing Jungwoo claiming him as his royal consort, nothing less— And tell me, how can a page get to be so tangled with a prince? 

—I could ask you how— said Lucas, letting himself fall back on the red sheets of his bed, holding himself on his elbows. 

Just angling his head back a little he could see Taeyong leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. He was looking at Ten, but the latter soon smiled at him softly, acknowledging the meaning of that upset glance and pose. 

— Yong, what if you get in there and start without me before the water cools down. I’ll be with you in a moment.

He nodded and made his way into the bathroom, as Lucas played dumb trying to make it look like he wasn’t aware of what he had walked into, mostly to not believe it himself and avoid the awkwardnes of the situation. 

Once he was gone, the new prince continued with what he was telling to his friend. 

— I don’t really know how it happened, at first I was just doing my job and serving him like Xiaojun told me to do. I was being good, kind out of instinct, and approaching him for his comfort, but then I found myself drifting to him in moments I should have been keeping composure, and taking invitations by my own hand until things went a little bit out of control.

— Out of control, uh? How was that?

— He kissed me and I felt… different. Like suddenly feeling like the Earth is really spinning and in orbit. 

Ten sighed. 

Is not like he was foreign to the feeling. Not the same story, not the same ways and not the same pace or decisions, but deep down at the base, the same will to jump straight into the bonfire. 

— And it had to be with Jungw-

— I missed you, you know?— cut Lucas before he could seal the sentence— I am sorry for what I said to you, how I yelled at you, back then in Per Saxa, I was so sensitive after all the shipwreck and… so terrified of everything. But I understand now, you and I are too different in that aspect, you are… not so good at keeping up with formal requisites and I never wanted to see it. I wanted to paint it like something else in my mind, believe you were the one doing your own nonsense. 

— Guilty— said Ten, taking the conversation with a humorous tone and raising his hand to highlight it. Lucas giggled with him, brightly— But look at you now, you look like a candy wrapper and at the same time, seeing you like this makes me so happy that you don’t even know, Lucas… for I know that you are doing it wholeheartedly. Maybe being a prince was not for me, but damn sure it is for you. 

— You think so?— murmured Lucas, and it was a genuine question. He had accompanied him and both his brothers through all their school years, learning how to behave, talk, move, eat and almost any aspect of life that one could train, but Lucas wasn’t a pupil per se. He was overlooking the fact that training didn’t make Ten a functional royal whatsoever— What if I do something wrong? 

— If you do something wrong, you are going to have an annoying page at your left saying something like “Don’t take off your shoes”, “Don’t run on the deck” and “Prince, could you be a little bit more focused on your reading”. He’d be nice to you and take care of it.

— I never told you not to take off your shoes.

— You got the idea. And… I am not the most fond person of his majesty Jungwoo but if you love him and you know he is good for you, then I trust you. And I am sure that he will be helping you through the process. 

Lucas nodded with a wide smile and so did Ten before it went interrupted by his own choked up noise of surprise when Lucas pulled him into a hug that, for obvious size reasons, wrapped all of his body and made his eyes widen. 

That was about the first time his friend had hugged him, due to the law of not touching him that prevailed in their kingdom. He was no longer a prince, and Lucas was now the one that carried a crown with a lot more conviction, so he didn’t doubt twice and also laced his arms around him.

— It wouldn’t have worked out. Us— spoke the new silver prince under his breath. Ten inhaled very fondly and shook his head, slightly, then pulled back from the hug to see Lucas— How long are you guys staying?

— Just a week— said Ten quickly. 

He didn’t want to stay too long at the court, but a week is the least amount of time he had gotten out of his brothers. First off because Xiaojun had requested him to have another meeting to discuss a couple of issues that they had appointed to be the next Friday, before a consensuated, stress-relieving, season of sword practice. It wasn’t Ten’s favorite activity but he wouldn’t be saying no to give a hard time to the crown prince after the entire showdown at the Grand Salon, given the fact that his death stare didn’t scratch his skin quite literally. 

As for Hendery, he practically begged on his knees for Ten to stay just long enough for him to help the eldest pick a wedding apparel. If he was going to miss the ceremony when Taeyong and him decided to have it, he would be, at least, furnishing them with a luggage set full of dowry for each of them. Honestly, Ten was trying to take accountants of where they could fit all of the presents together with Jaemin’s ones as soon as they told him they were engaged, it was better to wait for his and Jeno’s wedding in december pass before they share it. 

They could wait.

— What about you, when are you going to depart? 

— The day after tomorrow. I have too many things to attend already… 

— Comes off as near— apuncted Ten, with a tint of sadness in his voice but swiftly trying to compose, or at least, hide it behind the cheerful facade of his eye smile— I was hoping your majesty could take a break for me, a commoner, from his heavy agenda to tell me about that windbreaker skill we are recently aware of. 

Lucas showed his white teeth smile, the wide one, and laughed.

— Commoner, uh?— he gave a casual gesture with his head to the bathroom where Taeyong should be rejoicing in the warm scented waters of Ten’s big bathtub. It made Ten smile that they could direct words to each other without stabbing their lives out, it was the least he could be happy for, considering that they would probably miss that wedding too— Are you a good couturier or did you ruin half of his salary?

— I am a good couturier, a decent embroiderer and a very outstanding painter and designer. But he alone pays the rent pretty well, he is just a pretender. 

— You seem trustworthy— joked Lucas— Maybe you are worthy of my confidence, we should have breakfast together tomorrow… Jungwoo is still too exhausted from all the… incidents, so I have some free time to spare while he rests and it would be good to start summoning my own official meetings now, with someone I know. If you are willing.

— Sounds good for me, but Lucas…

— Uhhm? 

— Do we have cream filled breads in Ignis?

Taeyong would have chuckled and shook his head if he had heard him saying that and was not quite busy with his own things.

— I… think we don't make that kind of pastry traditionally but I guess that specifically we… or I, can order them in the kitchen if we want to?

— Please, if it’s not too much to ask, majesty, get a dozen for breakfast, get familiar with the wonders of the nation you are going to rule. 

— Excuse me?

— Ventum Anguis has the best little cream filled breads. It's the best I have ever eaten I swear I can’t stop buying them since I disembarked there. 

— Talking about that, Ten… Now that I am allowed to speak very honestly at you, let me say that your Ventum Anguis’ favorite cream bread is on the bathroom and I definitely don’t want to be here when you decide it's time to open the bag and eat him, so, let’s say goodbye and see each other tomorrow when everyone is done with the bedroom issues.

— What if it's not about that?— said Ten grinning but Lucas' obvious glance made him laugh out loud— Okay, see you tomorrow. But you know my only condition.

— No fruits for breakfast. 

He nodded, waving at him, this time as he went to the door and left him in the room with the activity he had been doing before the interruption.

He breathed in, preparing for what was next and gave a smooch to the cat and let her aside, from where she jumped off. 

He walked to the arcade of the bathroom, hands behind him undoing the knots of his sash to loosen his clothes, and leaned on a column, looking to the room filled with a warm vaporous cloud, but he was surprised to see that Taeyong wasn't inside. He bit his lips and hoped that he hadn't taken too long with his conversation with Lucas as he paced through the toilet. One of the roses of long stem that had been decorating the jars together with all the others was laying on the rim of the bathtub, together with the hair pins that had been pulling his hair back before, so Ten guessed Taeyong had been fidgeting with his things. 

He was happy that Taeyong was feeling comfortable in his room, he knew it could be very imposing to someone who had always lived as a commoner, being even exiled from his country. He didn't want Taeyong to feel intimidated but all of that festival of bubbly excess, nor to feel too low to interact with the court.

Ten's chamber was… not simple. He had lost him inside it, that was an initial way to make someone imagine how it was.

The bed was incredibly big, and the sheets and blankets were too rich and thick for the terrible heat of Ignis, making it seem like their only goal with it was the caprice of making them look superb. It also had a canopy made of red curtains of beautiful seer, which you could close and rest inside that fantasy. A chaise and a sofa of red velvet upholstery accompanied the bed on the set of furniture, all matched with the carpets and a carved wood screen with beautiful scenery. Close to the window, which opened to a vivid nook of the private gardens of the palace, there was a low table, lacquered in black with flowers painted on it, but they were barely visible because there was a pile of books over top, and the cushion was mostly conquered by Atheshe so the absence of Ten had let it become more abandoned that it should have been in other times, when he expended most of the time in his little sanctuary. 

The line of red wooden arches decorated with motifs all over them were an entrance to a bathroom of precious walls of black marble with golden flakes, with a spacious bathtub also carved in marble that filled it's space through a waterfall that flowed from a slit on the wall. The space full of jars with roses, a large shelf of perfumed oils for bathing, a sink with a mirror and even another wood carved screen to hide the other spaces of the place from which the blue shiny coat of Taeyong was hanging now.

— Taeyong?— cooed Ten, calling him up with a clear edge in his voice— Is your bath really over? Come on, I didn't take that long and I will feel so grieved if you tell me I missed it.

— You are a bit late— he answered, making Ten follow the sound of his voice, coming from behind the black lacquered double door that was the opening to the wardrobe that beheld a full length vanity with a big round mirror, two full body mirrors more and, of course, every clothing item he owned, with shoes and other accessories, as well— It's a pity, I think you would have liked to see what I did there.

— Without me? That's so cruel from you. I had to attend to my royal visits, I had no choice, don't you try making me feel… 

But oh, the wait he shut up midway through the phrase, for the second time of the night, was so delicious that Taeyong almost tasted it on his tongue when he opened the door of the wardrobe and Ten examined the vision he was giving from the top to the bottom.

He recognized the long robe, and could have told it apart from all the clothes that were at the palace at the moment, because it was one of his favorite pieces. The silk had a shiny end, and the brocades were all golden and black, drawing an intricate pattern on the sleeves and the chest, where it faded down to plain whine color. 

With all, the piece was made to top coat a set, not to wear all alone like Taeyong was doing. 

Ten, in such case, didn't know if the fall of the material was accidentally large and enough to cover most of Taeyong's center, or if he had put it in that way just to tease his eyes more accurately. Anyhow, he could see his neck, collar and a wide part of the start of his chest, shiny pale skin tone splattered with some pink. 

His hair was somewhat wet after the bath, and Taeyong had let it flop down and fall over his forehead but, very surprisingly for the youngest of the pair, it had been decorated thoroughly with one of his many kept crowns, golden and fine, drawing metallic phoenix and flowers on the center part and decorated with dark red rubies from which two arched pieces looped towards his hair dropping several lines of hanging gold chains. 

He had also replaced his silver chromed earring loops for long jewels of gold and red beads, and his eyelids had a glittering end, smudged with champagne color and pinkish red. 

With a reason he had taken his time messing up and down at the bathroom. Ten guessed that an attempt to destroy his sanity in that quick manner wasn't something to rush. 

— To hell with the bath, it doesn't matter. 

Taeyong's eyebrow quickly raised a bit with a self-sufficient gesture and pulled out a red fan with an embroidered chrysanthemum, imitating a gracious gesture that he had barely seen at all but that Ten had memorized from all the high-standing people that ever had tried to make a flirtatious remark towards him. 

— How do I look?

Ten shook his head. 

Honestly, he couldn't find the words to tell him how pretty he looked, and he lacked the sense that guided his mind with rationality, only focusing in the fact that Taeyong was there, half naked after a steamy bath, wrapped on his very own clothes while his heart raced because only by looking at him the love flooded him. 

— You look like this is the end of the world and saints are coming down to visit us on our last day. 

Taeyong let out a musical giggle, moving towards Ten slowly, walking with soft steps until he shortened the distance between them and his arms wrapped around Ten, sleeves running down his arms, uncovering his fair skin and fingers playing with the back of the collar. His hips rested over Ten's, who could feel, for a moment, the bulge of his lover pressing to his center, letting him know that his earlier words had been no bluff. 

The youngest's smirked, and his hands descended slowly, putting tingles on Taeyong's sides, with a smooth and perfect skin that made Ten become wild every time he saw him so flawlessly showing that what was only his and shared with him. Slipping under the material, his hands opened the robe, flowing to Taeyong's butt and massaging it before pushing from him to get Taeyong's erection to really press against him.

— What have you been doing there, uh?— He murmured on his lips with a grin— You are excited. 

Taeyong approached his lips to Ten's ear, instead, where he first touched with the tip of his tongue, licking sensually, catching the cold metal of the clasped earring he was wearing. In return for the way the prince was holding him quite tight and fondling his butt, he tried to make his voice covetous.

— I only played a little bit with myself. You can imagine what it was… All I did was make room for you and your love. It's a pity that I had to do it so quietly because Xuxi was over, I would have wanted you to hear it. 

The remarks Taeyong had made in his ear about made everything to put him right where he should be, which joined to the fact that he himself had grinded once, twice and more against his boyfriend because one thing he deeply enjoyed was the way that he lost the track of his own words when he felt the stimulation, breath cutting out with need.

— Looking like a prince but talking like that is a very high luxury you are taking, love. And for the place we are in, it's mostly a sin. 

— You look so lavish in here, all crowns and expensive clothes and I didn't want to look like a low hayseed on that bed you have— he said, bringing his hands to Ten's tiny hair clasps to leave them wherever, since he knew he had started finding them very uncomfortable— But since I am inexperienced I just wore this robe. Maybe I lack some furnishing.

— Do you think so? We need to put it to the test to be sure, follow me— Said Ten pushing from his hand and leading him through his chamber's subdivisions all the way back to the main dormitory. He followed sheepishly with a smile on his face and the red gown that barely covered anything, by the way, brushing the floors— Let's see you on the bed and decide how you look, although I don't think you result any unkempt. 

With the last meters towards their destiny, just under the bathroom arches, Ten stopped and, freeing Taeyong's hand, he opted better to lift him up on his arms and walk them both to the mushy mattress where he let Taeyong fall, crawling promptly over him, legs at each side of his hips. 

He reached for the little bottle he had in his pocket and set it aside on the bed, making Taeyong focus for a moment in the quick wit of his boyfriend, thing that got quickly shadowed by his gesture, untying his sash and the slow concealed grind on his lap. 

— I am already all throbbing, you don't need to do that— mewled Taeyong as Ten, regardless of the previous advice, kept doing it for his lover. His coat of embroidered roses, with long angel sleeves, came off and fell from the bed, and so did the undershirt and the rest of his outfit pieces, eventually— Hhmm, stop it… Ten… 

— You were rushing me earlier— he commented, leaning on the other to give him sweet pecks on his lips. Meanwhile, he got goosebumps, as his finally naked form came to touch with him, causing them to jolt slightly with the pain and pleasure of joining those needinesses. With a dare in his eye, he slowly shifted his hips forward again, hands holding on the blanket. He took a bracing breath before continuing speaking— Straight to it? 

— Yes. I don't take well being interrupted or postponed, it makes me ache. I swear Xuxi always breaks my… oh… 

As he was speaking, he slid his fingers along Taeyong's sensitive way. Ten smiled at him, and soon came back to kiss his face and his lips with a light-hearted passion, easing up the pushing of both his digits slowly deeper, trying to be carefull with his manners.

To be completely frank, Ten was melting with the view of his boyfrienid with gold peppering the countenance that possessed those closed eyes of shining shadows and parted lips of steamy bliss while his fingers pushed in as far as they could go, slick and with little to no resistance, making Taeyong swallow the high sensation of being slowly filled, love and pleasure pushing him to a different finish line. 

He felt giddy as the youngest wriggled them inside. He had loosened himself up a little earlier in the bathtub, that hadn't been a lie to tease Ten's patience, but it was still a tight fit. The rhythm he had adopted, thought, was so insistent, that the mercer thought he could have lost his mind right there and then. 

— Move here— cooed Ten softly, moving Taeyong so they both would be laying on the bed, the mercer's back pressed on Ten's chest, almost mindless already and letting himself be guided across the bed. 

He compelled, gasping when Ten's damp and warm fingers came back and found his spot better in that angle, proceeding to massage it until it was pulsing and Taeyong's muscles tensed as he began to moan. 

True to form, he felt he was so hard he could submit to his own weakness anytime.

— Ten, it's enough, I was ready before— whined Taeyong, feeling like he needed another kind of attention and the foreplay was becoming too harsh for his resilience— I am ready for you.

— But you played without me earlier, I missed that pretty part so we have to make up for that. 

He dipped his fingers deeper, curling them inside him, making drops trickle down his lover as he got even hotter. In fact, he was pushing back against his hand, so aroused that Ten chuckled under his breath. 

— And you? Aren't you in pain for waiting this long? I haven't even touched you yet and I want to make you feel it, too.

Ten smirked sideways, lips kissing on Taeyong's neck with more tongue each time he came at it. His sweetness truly had him troubled, that wasn't a secret. Taeyong's efforts to make his mind reel and his body react were always accurate, but he had been willing to take his time working him open and not hurting him on their first try for that mood.

Truth is, that Taeyong had dearly insisted on it for a while, and it was Ten who had seen himself as the one having to ease him down several times, convincing him to not rushing it and doing it just in the tough way, so he understood that the mercer was frustrated and leaning to the sensitive side of the spectrum already. 

How could he even say no to him for longer, it would become torturous for both, and so he pulled his hand away, leaving out a gentle whisper that scaped from Taeyong's lips with the empty feeling that made him shake. 

Moving carefully, Ten allowed himself to stroke himself a couple of times, delicately spreading some of the oil he had brought with him while his other hand distractedly played with the skin on Taeyong's chest, as well as his nipples that he always reacted to with an especial proneness. He was gasping under his breath everytime he brushed over one, lust nibbling on his flesh and making a tight tension gather in his lower stomach.

Thereupon, and watching the way Taeyong was squirming and moving back onto his lap, he held his hip with one hand to keep him steady, as he brushed the tip alongside his bottom helping himself with the other hand, to finally let his entrance to pinch the head ever so slightly before he started gliding in.

— Oh, for the love of both Gods… ah… I thought you would never do me like this.

— One sure thing where you were right is that you really are tight— said Ten with a groan, not really hearing Taeyong's claim for the feeling of coming into him, nearly edging with that embrace. 

He could swear it, going all the way down on it as he held his man's waist between his arms to pull him closer onto him. 

He pulled back and then slid in with some more force hilting in his bottom. It was such a feeling, such a lovely and agreeable feeling of being warm and tightly embraced, shaft pulsing inside from all the condensed satisfaction that the prince had to stop for a few seconds and appreciate the sight of him in the middle of two beautiful ass cheeks.

That wouldn't be lasting too long. 

— Feels good?

Taeyong moaned, muffled, with his face in the many cushions that obviously decorated Ten's bed. 

The youngest let him get used to the feeling and then began a constant rhythm, slamming in, longer and slower first but losing the shame in a spawn of three cycles, forgetting the whole construction about being mild with his boyfriend, whose moans, anyways, were too hot and loud to remind him anything that wasn't to slip one hand between his thighs and wrap it around his shaft to help with every bit of Heaven that he could give him.

By the time, all was so hard and fast that Taeyong forgot where he was, losing himself to the intoxicating feeling of Ten pounding in him and making his body to be alight. Feeling him deep inside hin, breath hitched and heart running fast, he arched his back as much as he could. 

— Can you go faster, Tennie?— he said in between breaths, hasty and full of a kind of bliss that drew sparkles in the back of his closed eyelids. As expected, the called listened to his request and speeded up, not only with the way in which he was thrusting but also with the strokes of his hand— Of course you can… Gods! Don't stop, don't stop, a little bit more, keep going! 

Ten's face buried on his shoulder, eyes squeezing as he kept slamming in and Taeyong's walls clenched around him, bringing him closer to the edge of euphoric feelings. He groaned quite loud, but it wasn't as loud as the eldest one, dissolving into moans and calls of his name that made Ten's heart ache with the burn, pleasure pooling on his navel. 

It went up, his volume and his tone, reaching a high note that ended when he tensed and the long stripe of white trimmed over the red robe and Ten's hand. 

The way his body spammed and clenched sent Ten to the ninth ring of heaven with him, practically at the same time, spilling into him, but that didn't matter to them at all. 

Ten was breathing too fast, he knew it, but he didn't care and delayed not a second taking Taeyong's shoulder and turning him around so he could face him, pulling him on a kiss that had no order beyond how much love they felt for each other, breathing their scents and easing their hearts like that so they would beat with a normal pace. The blonde let him squeeze him against his body, limbs intertwining while the orgasm washed off in their bodies. He couldn't do anything but obligue, his legs were shaking a lot and his body was devastated from the stimulation.

— How are you feeling?— asked Ten when they parted and the excitement started coming down— You are alright, don't you? 

— No, Ten. I am "alright" when I have cake for dessert or something like that, right now the word is more like feeling "intemperate"—He softly giggled and nodded. It wouldn't be him who would tell his Taeyong not to repeat that way of doing, he was beyond pleased with the resulting sensations, if he wanted to repeat he will gratefully indulge his need— Sorry, anyways, I came on your expensive clothes.

— And I can sink in a ship again if that doesn't provoke me. But here, let me help you with that.

As he said it, Ten started pulling gently from the robe, taking it off from Taeyong, as it was an absolute mess of wet patches. He also wiped the excess of their enthusiasm from the mercer's thighs with it and threw it away, on the floor, to keep the bed clean, fresh and comfortable for their sleep. 

When Taeyong let his face rest on Ten's chest, he was still wearing the crown, dangling on his blonde hair with all the gold and rubies pressed now on his fiance's skin like trying to leave an imprint, but the only one allowed to do so, was Ten, whose every little caress shimmered like a sparkler. 

—Ten— called the mercer, eyes closed and cheek resting on Ten's chest as the later played with his hair lazily, dozing off. He hummed in response— Can I wear something like this tomorrow at lunch time? 

—Gods… you should totally wear it. It's my farewell and nothing will make me happier than rubbing the beauty of the Prince Taeyong of Ignis in each and every of the present's faces, once and forever for their loss. Especially Jungwoo's.

— How did you just… how did you just call me? 

It was dumbfounding, but Ten did not back up in his clear answer. 

—  _ Prince Taeyong of Ignis. _ I know we will never become that. I wouldn't like it to be, and I know you also refuse to that way of living, so there's no doubt about it, our palace life is counted. But because of lineage I am a prince of Ignis, and you and I are engaged so that makes you, legitimately, a prince of Ignis. Didn't you notice?

— No— He confessed, sincerely but out of breath— Because I keep forgetting you are a prince.

— That, my love, is why I love you so much. You let me be whatever I want to be if it makes me joyful. It's amazing.

— I love you more— said Taeyong half asleep, already, melting in his comfortable embrace.

—And you know what? You are going to meet my father— Ten, out of expectations, laughed about that— The awful old man, although he surely doesn't feel the best about me dating a male partner, not to tell about the peasant part, he would like to have a thing like you in the court, so handsome and full of elegance. I swear to the Gods that when he sees you dressed like my prince he is going to want to faint. 

— I think I am terrified now. I just noticed that I have to meet a king and my boyfriend's father at the same time. Gods!— He said, snapping his head up from Ten's chest suddenly, crown tickling with the impulse while some of it's hanging chains and jewels had stuck to his cheek for being pressed between him and Ten— He hasn't heard us, right? Ten!

The youngest one bursted into laughter, loud and clear  with the panicked face of Taeyong. It was so funny for him that he even clapped his hands, cackling for a while before sitting up on the bed and holding Taeyong's cheeks to kiss him sweetly. Then, he carefully retired the threads that had stuck to his cheeks and started undoing the hairstyle, to pull the crown off and let it aside, together with the earrings. He brushed Taeyong's blonde and purplish locks with his fingers to air the tightness that the crown should have left behind.

— He sleeps very far from here, love. This palace is very wide, you would have to walk for a while to go to my dad's chamber, and even have to cross the garden. You think a king wants to hear his annoying children call him in the middle of the night? If someone heard you, that's Hendery, but he is most likely asleep. Or maybe a waiting maid, but they are so strait-laced in here that they would sprint away from this area at the first moan. 

— That's a relief— breathed Taeyong out. With that knowledge and his hair free from uncomfortable accessories, he leaned on Ten again and his sleepiness came back— It would have been a rough start, not to mention the embarrassment. 

— You know that you don't need to try to make a good impression for him, right? He's not even like my father, he didn't act like one and I don't have a deep appreciation for him.

— I know. But I have a complex trying to appear pleasing to everyone. 

— Love, whoever that doesn't find you pleasing has a serious problem with their views, it's not you who has to fix that…Taeyong?

For the paused moment of silence without an answer, he looked at him without wanting to move a lot, because as he guessed, his boyfriend had fell asleep in the midst of talking to him. 

He couldn't blame him, the day had been long and tiring, together with a night that turned frantic and passionate. 

He should be exhausted, even thought he didn't complain for a single time, but for sure he looked adorable with his arms around Ten's waist, his head resting on his chest and his body spread on the messy red blankets of the royal bed. 

Ten stared at him for several large minutes, admiring the picture of his beloved looking happy and comfortable. 

He wished he had a good sleep accompanied with pleasant dreams. 

Stretching, he reached one of the fans that were always thrown somewhere in that room, and slowly, lazily, he started fanning some air over them, until his eyes became heavy and he too, fell asleep happily in his house's bed, for the first time in forever being that he did it with his heart full and soul filled with will, for he was, and knew that always would, be by the side of his true love, the stubborn mercer, Lee Taeyong. 


End file.
